


come a little closer (dont want to hide it anymore)

by AngeK15



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Albus's POV, Drama, Eventual Romance, Family Bonding, Friends to Lovers, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, Post-Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:48:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 47,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22753522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeK15/pseuds/AngeK15
Summary: It should be a calm and trouble free fifth year at Hogwarts, but in between Lily’s magic experiments, James’ new angsty personality and everyone around him acting like they know something that Albus doesn’t know himself, he knows it’s going to be anything but. Well, can’t be worse than last year, right?ORAlbus Severus Potter is in love with Scorpius Malfoy. This is how he finds out
Relationships: Scorpius Malfoy/Albus Severus Potter
Comments: 44
Kudos: 166





	1. The Guests

Albus watched as the dark brown speck in the sky became bigger and bigger until he realised the brown speck was, in fact, an owl, and that unless he acted fast enough, the owl would glide right into the glass pane and either shatter the window or the window would shatter the owl.

Luckily, he _was_ fast enough, despite his lack of athletic prowess. The owl, none the wiser to the damage and/or danger it could have been in, glided smoothly into his room and settled on his bed frame and looked at him with anticipating eyes.

Albus did not know who this owl belonged to, but he could hazard a guess, since there was only one person who would be messaging him.

Taking the envelope from the owl, Albus opened it. He knew immediately that his suspicions were right after seeing the handwriting, not even needing to look at the signature at the end of the letter.

_To Albus,_

_My dad got me this owl! Isn’t she lovely? She’s quite demanding though. I can’t decide on what to name her so I’m just calling her Owl for now. She doesn’t seem to like any of the options I give her, either._

_Anyway, I’ve been begging and begging dad to let you stay over for just this once and I think I’ve finally got through to him! He’s letting you stay three days before we go back to Hogwarts, which might be a short amount of time to you but to me that’s just enough days that you can survive dad’s terrible cooking. He got rid of the house elf sometime last year while we were at school. I think Hermione’s gotten through to him. Now that they’re friends. Kind of. They should really be thanking us for that. Are you good at cooking? Maybe you should cook for us._

_So, unless you’re planning on going to some other friend’s place, (ha!) the Malfoy family warmly invites you to stay in Malfoy Manor!_

_From Scorpius._

“What’re you doing?”

Albus looked up at him. James looked very concerned. “What?”

“That thing you’re doing with your face. What is that?”

Albus frowned, feeling his face, “What’s wrong with it?”

“Oh, you look back to normal again.”

Albus suddenly realised what he was talking about.

“You’re a git,” he muttered.

James snickered. “What were you grinning like an idiot for?”

Albus had established long ago the invisible line that should prevent James Sirius Potter from entering his room, however, since he was almost fifteen years old and not able to use his wand, that line was not invisible, but rather, non-existent, and ever since his escapade through time last year and slowly repairing his relationship with his dad, James had started to believe that the line was fading and that Albus would welcome his older brother into his personal space, thoughts and feelings, and more importantly, his room.

Irritation replacing his elation, he scowled at James. “Get out.”

“Where’d that owl come from?”

“Scorpius,” said Albus.

“What’s in your hands?”

“A letter. Do you have a brain?”

“Hm.”

To Albus’ surprise, James just turned and left his room.

He paused for a moment, and then chased after James.

“Oi, aren’t you going to ask me what the letter is about?”

James paused at the top of the staircase. “No. I don’t care.”

This must have been some kind of reverse psychology thing. What James was really angling for was for Albus to tell him exactly what was written in his letter and then after that he would tease Albus relentlessly for having a sleep over with his best mate at the ripe old age of almost fifteen.

‘Okay. Then I won’t tell you.”

“Like you were going to anyway?”

“Well, I might’ve.”

“Well, out with it then!”

“No, I don’t think I will.”

“Fine.” James continued down the stairs.

Albus frowned. Usually he would have made more of an effort. Something was wrong.

Albus matched his pace with his brother. Tentatively, he said: “Scorpius asked me to stay over at his place?”

James smirked, though he didn’t seem to revel in the glee that he had drawn out the answer from Albus. Maybe he didn’t actually want to know? “His dad came around then?”

“Mm.”

“When are you going?”

“Few days before school starts. We’ll head to Hogwarts together.”

James made a noncommittal noise. Their family were awaiting them at the dinner table. Maybe James was just so hungry that he didn’t feel like taking the piss out of him. That had happened before.

Before last year, Albus had made it a point not to eat with his family. He would take a plate and go back to his bedroom to eat. Recently though, he was trying to be more present around his family. His dad had stacked yesterday’s leftovers on the dinner table. Lily was already seated and so was his mum.

Albus sat next to Lily. Eating at the table had been uncomfortable and awkward at the beginning, no one used to Albus being there. Nobody knew what to say to break the ice, and even though Albus was used to that, he knew it was strange that his family would think he was so volatile. So, ever since the first few awkward dinners, he had taken it upon himself to show his family that he really was okay being around them now. He cracked jokes, he told stories. He asked to ditch family reunions, which his dad was completely okay with but his mum less so.

Slowly, the dinners moved from being awkward, to being fun. And through that, Albus’ perspective of his family had changed. He actually liked them now.

“Scorpius has asked me to stay with him at the end of the holidays,” said Albus, spooning himself a bit of curry and rice.

Harry dropped his spoon, splattering curry onto the table, his action causing all eyes at the table to focus on him.

“And Malfoy agreed to that?”

“Well, Scorpius probably nagged Mr. Malfoy until he allowed it.”

“Hm,” said Harry. He grabbed his wand and _scourgify-ed_ the mess he had made in his shock.

“It’ll just be for three days, then we’ll be off to Hogwarts. In a week’s time.”

“Right. That’s fine, Al.”

Albus felt a sense of relief. He still wasn’t sure whether his dad liked Scorpius all that much, despite how much Scorpius liked _him._ He had sort of expected his dad to tell him not to go, in which case, he would have complained to his mum, who would either convince Harry, or let Albus go despite of his father’s protests. He hadn’t expected it to be so easy.

“My cousin called me,” said Harry, something that seemed out of the blue, but Albus suspected he had a point to make or a question to ask.

“Yes?” said Ginny.

“Um – he said he wanted to visit. He’s just had another child. Another girl. Said he wants to introduce his family to us.”

This caused all four heads at the table to stare at Harry again. Albus had never met his second cousin. He had heard stories, of course. All the nasty things Dudley Dursley had done to Harry. Shoving his head down the toilet. Misplacing his glasses. Beating him up. How at the end of it, he wasn’t so bad. Albus didn’t quite believe that a bully stopped being a bully and felt quite nervous about what his father was about to say next.

“I just wanted to ask you if that’s okay with all of you?”

It was silent all around the table. Even Ginny’s spoon had stopped mid-way to her mouth. They were all probably thinking the same thing that Albus was. They had minimal interaction with Harry’s living side of his family, a phone call on the landline, or a postcard sent to the letterbox. As far as Albus knew, his mother had only met Dudley Dursley once at their wedding and he wasn’t sure that interaction went as well as his parents pretended it did.

“When? Just him, or-?” Ginny broke the silence.

“The day after tomorrow and his wife and daughters too.”

“Is the wife nice?”

Harry shrugged. “You’d either have to be a very nice, or a very self-hating person to want to marry my cousin.”

Albus snickered. Harry looked very pleased with himself.

Lily sat up straight. “Well, _I,_ for one, don’t think we’ve had enough drama in this family, let him in, I say!”

“Lily-!” said Ginny.

“What? I want to see the guy who made dad’s childhood a living hell!”

“It’s not going to be like that. He’s a father now. He’s married. He’s a different person to how he was,” said Harry.

Lily shrugged.

“They’re not going to _stay,_ are they?” asked Albus. He didn’t like the idea of having to share his house with a bunch of strangers.

“No, it’ll just be for the day.”

“Alright, is it settled then? James?”

“I don’t care. Can I stay in my room while they’re here?”

“Well, you’ll have to say hi. Then you can do whatever you want.”

“Does his family know about magic?”

“He does, but the rest of them don’t. No… we’ll have to pretend we’re Muggles.”

James smirked. “Mum will have a blast with that.”

“Hopefully not literally,” Ginny muttered under her breath.

“That settles it then. They’re coming.”

“This is going to be a disaster, just so you know,” said Albus.

“We’ll see,” sighed Harry.

* * *

_Dear Scorpius,_

_I can come! Let me know if there’s anything I need to bring. How hard are your pillows? I can’t sleep if they’re too hard, by the way. I’ll bring my school trunk and things, of course._

_How have your holidays been?_

_From Albus._

Albus sealed the letter in an envelope, wrote Scorpius’ name on it and secured the letter on Owl. He opened his window and without even a hoot, Owl was already soaring out of his room.

Albus quickly got changed into a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. He pulled on some socks too, because he always felt awkward showing his feet about people he didn’t know. The Dursleys were supposed to be coming any minute now.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Hesitantly, he left his room and went downstairs to the doorway, James and Lily following behind him. His mum and dad were already there opening the door.

A middle-aged man and woman stood there, a girl who looked to be about thirteen, and a small bundle of fabric was held in the woman’s hands. The man, who had to have been Dudley Dursley, looked like there was no possible way he could have been related to the Potters, with his blonde hair and stocky frame.

“Hi,” said Harry. “Come in. Make yourselves at home.”

“How’ve you been, mate?” said Dudley as he stepped inside.

“Never better,” said Harry.

“This is my wife, Eleanor. My daughters Maddie,” he pointed to the older one, “and Ashley.”

“I’m Ginny,” said Ginny. “And these are James, Albus, and Lily.”

She pointed at each of her children in succession.

Albus was surprised at how smoothly everything was going. Introductions had gone off without a hitch.

“Come into the living room,” said Harry. “Lily, maybe you’d want to play with Maddie?”

“Dad, no one says play anymore. Just say hang out.”

“Lily, do you want to hang out with Maddie?”

“Only if Maddie wants to.”

Maddie shrugged, and Lily grabbed her by the arm and took her to the second living room, so they weren’t disturbed by the adults.

Albus and James looked at each other. Would it be rude to leave? At least James had already got permission to stay in his room the whole time, but what about Albus? Someone would have to make sure his mum didn’t accidentally use magic while there were Muggles in the house, and Albus didn’t know whether his dad would be able to make sure of that while catching up with his cousin at the same time.

So, even though he knew he would hate every minute of it, Albus joined his parents and cousins on the couches.

“You have a lovely home, Ginny,” said Eleanor.

“Thank you,” she said. “Do any of you want coffee or tea?”

“Tea would be great, thanks,” said Eleanor.

Ginny left to put the kettle on.

There already was a platter laid out on the coffee table of crackers, cheese and dips. Dudley leaned over to fetch some. The atmosphere was so different to how it was when Hermione and Ron came over, or Luna or Neville and the others. It felt so stilted and awkward.

“How’ve you been?” said Harry. “How’s Vernon?’

“Dad’s… alright.”

The way he hesitated made Albus think that Uncle Vernon wasn’t fine. If Harry noticed, he didn’t show. Perhaps was revelling in the knowledge that he _wasn’t_ fine. Though, his father had been a little upset when his Aunt Petunia passed away last year, so there was really no telling with him.

“Hm,” said Harry. “How’s work?”

“It’s good. I’ll be in Sweden next month for a match.”

“Great!” said Harry. “And the kids?”

“Maddie is doing well. She’s a good kid.”

Albus noticed the soft smile on Dudley’s face. He was proud of her.

“She seems like it,” said Harry.

“Better than I was, at that age, anyway.”

 _You would hope so,_ Albus thought.

“What about yours?”

“Don’t even ask,” said Harry, looking pointedly at Albus.

Dudley chuckled. “He takes after you, then?”

Albus, who had been fidgeting with his fingers, stopped momentarily to look from Dudley to his father. Many times, people had commented about how much he _looked_ like his dad, but no one had ever implied anything about his personality.

“Well, he’s a troublemaker, that’s for sure. He’s going to pull his head in this year though.”

“Dad!” complained Albus.

“James is in his seventh year this year, Albus is in his fifth and Lily in her second. The amount of letters I’ve gotten for each of them! Lily especially! I don’t know what I’m going to do with her.”

“I can hear you!” she called from the other room.

Ginny returned with a pot of tea and some cups. “That’s nothing compared to you, or my brother’s. I think our kids might be the best behaved in the Potter-Weasley family for generations!” She settled down in between Harry and Albus and seemed to reconsider. “Well, considering everything that happened last year though…”

“What happened last year?” asked Eleanor.

“I almost blew up the school,” said Albus rather cheerfully, who already had an excuse ready, so his parents didn’t have to think of one.

Eleanor almost choked on her tea, but Dudley remained surprisingly impassive. “Yeah, you definitely take after your father, mate.”

Something warm settled into Albus’ chest. He should’ve hated being compared to his father and he didn’t know why, but something about the way Dudley said it made it seem different from all the other times. Maybe because he wasn’t saying that he should _be more like his father,_ but rather that he already _was._

“So, you’d be fifteen then?” asked Dudley.

“Almost,” said Albus.

“Try not to blow up any schools this year. If I remember right, you’ve got your major exams coming up?”

“Yeah,” said Albus.

“Got any idea what you want to be when you’re older?”

Albus shrugged.

“What is it you do, Harry?” asked Eleanor.

“Me? Oh… I’m a police officer.”

“Oh, that’s great! What about you Ginny?”

“Well, I used to play Quid- er… soccer. But now I’m a sports columnist.”

“Those are both very admirable careers,” said Eleanor. “Maybe you’d want to go into your father’s line of work?”

Albus looked at his father, then back towards Eleanor. “No, you have to be athletic to be a police officer. I’m anything but.”

Eleanor smiled softly. “That’s alright then, you’ll figure it out eventually.”

“What is it that you do?” Albus asked, if only to be polite.

“I’m a teacher,” said Eleanor. “And if you went to my school, I’d have no idea how you would have gotten away with it.”

“With what?” asked Albus.

“Blowing up the school.”

“Well, he _almost_ blew up the school. It was quite terrible, and he got into a lot of trouble for it. But he’s learned his lesson. Isn’t that right, Al?” said Ginny.

Albus nodded, hoping to look appropriately ashamed of himself.

“Which school do you go to?”

“It’s a Steiner school,” said Dudley before anyone could speak.

Albus didn’t know what a Steiner school was, but judging by the look on Eleanor’s face, it explained everything.

“Ah,” she said.

The conversation stilted there, and the only noises were from Eleanor or Ginny taking sips of tea.

Albus got up silently and moved to the other room where Lily and Maddie were.

“Hi,” he said. The girls were sitting cross-legged on the carpet, Lily marvelling at something in her hand. “What are you doing?”

“Al, Al, look at this!” said Lily. Albus came closer. “It’s a mobile phone!”

Albus knew what a mobile phone was. His father had one. It was long and had buttons all over it, as well as a small green screen that could make calls and texts and could also play a game where you could control what was supposed to be a snake and make it grow until it took up the entire screen.

What Lily was holding was thin and flat and black from bottom to top. Albus frowned, plucking it from Lily’s hands. The were some switches and buttons along the side that Albus was too scared to press unless he accidentally broke it.

“How do you turn it on?” he asked.

“Like this,” said Lily, reaching over and pressing one of the buttons on the side. “Maddie showed me how.”

“I can’t believe either of you haven’t seen a mobile phone before!” exclaimed Maddie. “Are your parents okay?”

“They’re not,” said Lily and Albus in unison.

With Lily’s demonstration, the screen had turned on and the time was displayed on the screen. This was so much more advanced than his father’s phone! For one, the screen was in colour, the background was an image of an attractive man with black hair, which seemed to have been taken at a concert.

“Who is that?” Albus asked, showing the image to Maddie.

“A singer I like,” said Maddie. “I can show you his songs if you’d like?”

“Really? On the radio or something?”

“The radio? What year are you living in?” Maddie tutted and took her mobile phone from his hands. She touched the screen a few times and somehow, music started playing from the device. She handed the phone back to Albus.

“What is this? Is this like a television?” he asked, marvelling at the genius of Muggles. He felt a little bit like grandpa Weasley at the moment. He wondered if he was wrong for not taking up Muggle Studies.

“My god,” said Maddie. “Have you never heard of YouTube either? Why is my signal so bad here?”

“I don’t have a tube? And what signal? You’re not doing anything.”

She stared at Albus. “Are you Amish?”

“No, I’m Albus?”

Albus, confused and excited, looked down at the screen. The man was rather handsome, and the video was kind of interesting too, though it didn’t seem like it was a video that was appropriate for a twelve year old, in his opinion. In fact, it was barely even appropriate for Albus himself! Men and women alike grinded up upon the singer and it made his heart race enough that he had to shove the phone back into Maddie’s hands.

“You have a really weird family,” said Maddie to Lily. Lily shrugged.

“I want one,” said Lily. “Where do you get them from?”

“You seriously don’t know? Well, you can get them online, from a store…”

“Are they expensive?”

“Yeah, I guess?”

“Hm,” said Lily, and Albus knew she was thinking of some kind of plan to get mum or dad to get her a mobile phone of her own, even though he didn’t know why. He doubted she’d be able to get it to work at Hogwarts.

“Come here,” Maddie said, she touched her phone again, and held it far from her. Albus saw they were reflected on the screen.

“Smile, everyone!” Maddy said, and with her thumb she touched a circle on the bottom of the screen and showed Albus and Lily.

Albus and Lily stared at each other after seeing the image displayed on the screen, the snapshot that Maddie had taken, displayed on the screen.

“Is it okay if I post this?”

“To where?”

“Instagram.”

“Is that in England?”

“No… this is Instagram. You can post your pictures and look at other people’s pictures too. See?”

“I guess?”

“Don’t your friends have phones? How do you even survive like this?”

“You’re the first person we know who has a phone like _that_ ,” said Lily. “I mean, dad has one, but it looks positively primeval compared to this one.”

“Hey, what happened to your brother?” Maddy asked suddenly.

“Oh, he’s been a bit antisocial lately,” said Lily. “He’s in his room.”

James? Antisocial? The two words just didn’t go together.

“Oh, right.”

“Hey, show me what else you can do on your phone,” said Lily.

Albus sat there for a few moments before realizing he was no longer included with the two girls’ tête-à-tête and silently removed himself to go to his room.

On the way there, he stopped by James’ door and suddenly a different idea seemed infinitely more appealing that staying in his room alone.

He opened the door to his brother’s room. As always, his room was plastered with Quidditch posters and a bookshelf held some schoolbooks as well as a never-ending amount of Quidditch medals and trophies.

James stared at him as he walked in. “Have they left?”

“No. You should come downstairs. Maddie has a mobile phone. It’s so cool!”

“Dad has a mobile phone.”

“This one is so much better. The Muggles have well and truly outdone themselves with this one.”

James shrugged.

“What’s wrong?” Albus asked.

“Why do you ask?”

“You just don’t seem like yourself.”

“What? One day I don’t feel like making a clown out of myself and something has to be wrong? I just don’t feel like talking to anyone today.”

Albus shrugged. “Alright. But yesterday, too…”

“What did I do yesterday?”

Albus sat down next to James, legs extended on his bed. “Well, it’s more like what you _didn’t_ do.”

“Get off my bed.”

“It’s comfier than mine.”

“Do you want me to kick you off?”

“No, let’s cuddle.”

“Go away,” said James, shoving him slightly.

Albus retaliated by snuggling closer to him.

“You’re disgusting,” said James.

“Jamesie, how can you treat your favourite brother like this?”

“Why are you like this?” complained James, putting a hand on Albus’ forehead. “Are you sick?”

“Nope.”

“Cursed?”

“Possibly?”

“I’m tired. Can you please leave my room before I levitate you out of here?”

“What a coincidence, I’m tired too.”

“Get out.”

“I can’t I’m sleeping,” said Albus with his eyes wide open.

“There’s not enough space on this bed for you.”

“Are you saying I’m fat?”

“Piss off,” said James, laughing a little.

“Okay, I’ll leave now. I’ve gotten what I wanted out of you.”

“What?”

Albus shrugged and swung off the bed. He was halfway out of the door before he paused. “Actually, your bed really is a lot more comfortable than mine.”

* * *

After the Dursley-Murphy’s left, Ginny climbed up the stairs to inform her sons. She opened James’ door, only to find the both of them nestled against each other, fast asleep.


	2. Diagon Alley

_To Albus,_

_Bring some Muggle money! And your own pillow as well._

_I’ve been well. Nothing eventful, so not much to tell you on that front._

_See you soon,_

_Scorpius._

Albus folded the letter and put it in his collection of other letters from Scorpius, quietly closing the shoe box and putting it back in its hiding spot under his bed. 

Albus went downstairs to fetch some owl treats to give to Owl, who hooted cheerfully and swooped from his window back to Malfoy Manor. 

Albus looked down at his trunk, which he’d already packed with all his schoolbooks and robes. He grabbed one of his pillows off his bed and shoved it in there. 

“Dad!” he called out. 

“What?” his dad shouted from downstairs. 

“I need some Muggle money!” 

Because shouting across the house was not all that reasonable, Albus went downstairs to his father. 

“What do you need Muggle money for?” 

“I don’t know. Scorpius said to bring some.” 

“Scorpius? What does _he_ want to do that involves Muggle money?” 

Albus shrugged, not sure why his father had that kind of tone. “I don’t have a clue. But do you have any?” 

Harry reached into his back pocket, pulling out his dragon-skin wallet. “I have… ten pounds. We can go to Diagon Alley today and convert some more.” 

“Why does Albus get money and I don’t?” James said, walking into the kitchen and peering into the fridge. 

“Because you didn’t ask,” commented Harry. 

“Can I have some?” asked James. 

“For what?” 

James shrugged. “Just so I can have some.” 

“Get a job then,” said Harry. 

“And people say that the Potters are rich,” scowled James, rolling his eyes. He returned back upstairs, empty handed. 

Harry turned back to Albus. “I’ll get the Floo powder. Get ready and we’ll go.” 

Albus nodded. It was one of his father’s rare days off, and in general, it wasn’t often that Albus went anywhere with his dad. He was determined to enjoy this rare day. 

Looking in his closet, Albus decided on wearing a pair of jeans and a black turtleneck with a long, fleece-lined jacket. He’d gotten the jacket from Scorpius for his birthday last year, who told him it made him look nicer. Looking in the mirror, Albus noticed that the space where his jeans ended and his ankles began had grown larger. He probably would need a whole new wardrobe soon. His grandma Weasley suspected that he’d grow taller than James one day. 

Albus left his room, only to be stopped by Lily on his way downstairs. “Where are you going?” 

“Diagon Alley with dad.” 

Lily gasped. “Don’t leave without me!” 

In a flurry of red hair, Lily ran back into her room and in a second, her door opened again, and she returned fully dressed. 

“What’s that on your face?” Albus asked, peering at her. Her skin was freckle-less, and her pale eyelashes were blackened, her cheeks stained a bright red. “Are you wearing makeup? Jesus Christ, Lily. You’re _twelve._ Get that off your face.” 

The skin that wasn’t covered my makeup reddened. “It doesn’t even look bad, though!” 

“It doesn’t look _terrible,_ no. But mum said you’re only allowed to wear makeup when you turn sixteen.” 

“Mum’s not here,” Lily shrugged. 

“Dad’ll notice.” 

“Dad will notice nothing.” 

Albus shrugged, curious to see whether his dad really would notice. “Whatever. Let’s go.” 

They went downstairs. 

“Dad, I’m coming too!” 

Harry nodded in Lily’s direction. “Alright. Stand by the fireplace.” 

Lily turned towards Albus and stuck her tongue out at him. 

“I think you need new glasses,” Albus said. 

“What? Why?” he asked taking them off to look at them, then realised he couldn’t see anything anyway and put them back on. 

“Don’t worry about him,” said Lily, kicking Albus’ shin. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” 

Lily grabbed some Floo powder and stood in the fireplace. “Diagon Alley!” she shouted. 

The green flames licked her up. Albus went in after her, sprinkling the green powder and shouting the words. An uncomfortable second after, he stood in the Leaky Cauldron, his sister waiting beside the fireplace. A few seconds after, his father joined them. 

As it always happened whenever Harry Potter was around, the whole room went silent. Harry, as always, pretended not to notice it. He greeted Hannah Abbott, the barkeeper, and guided Albus and Lily to the brick wall before anyone could come up and ask for an autograph. Harry tapped the wall with his wand and the space that separated the Muggle world and the wizarding world melted away. 

“Off we go,” said Harry. “We’ll get your money out, then if you want to look around we can.” 

Albus nodded, following his dad to the bank to exchange his Galleons into Muggle money. Walking into Gringotts always made Albus a little bit nervous, what with the goblins harbouring a bit of a grudge against his father for breaking into it all those years ago and living to tell the tale. The goblins always seemed a little hostile towards them, even though when he brought that up to Scorpius in conversation a while ago, Scorpius told him that the goblins were hostile towards _everyone._ Maybe that was just because Scorpius was a Malfoy and _everyone_ were hostile towards the Malfoys. 

Harry, very respectful to the ever-watching eyes of the goblins, walked up to one and pulled out a few galleons and asked him very kindly if he could exchange it please. 

The goblin, recognising Harry and looking over in Albus’ and Lily’s direction, scowled, but counted the galleons and returned within a second with a wad of notes. “A hundred pounds.” 

“Thank you,” said Harry. 

“Wait, dad,” said Lily quickly. “Can I have some money, too?” 

“What for?” 

“Um… a mobile phone.” 

Harry frowned. “Why do you want a mobile phone for?” 

“Because they’re amazing? Maddie has one and I want one too!” 

“You’re going to Hogwarts in four days. It won’t work there.” 

“Please?” 

“I’ll get you one for your birthday.” 

“This whole trip was for nothing,” Lily pouted, but Albus could tell she was somewhat pleased. At least she was getting one, eventually. 

“I don’t know how you weren’t in Slytherin,” Albus said. 

“As if I would ever be in Slytherin,” grunted Lily. 

“Here, Al,” Harry nudged his hand in Albus’ direction. “There’s a lot of money here, so don’t lose it.” 

Albus took the money and reached into his back pocket to put it in his wallet, which became significantly fatter than it was before. “Cool! Thanks dad!” 

“Maybe I’ll talk to your mum about opening a bank account for you lot.” 

“Really?” exclaimed Lily. 

Harry nodded. “We’ll see. Anyway, let’s get going. Albus is there anything you need?” 

“No – oh, can I get some new trousers? Mine aren’t fitting well anymore.” 

“Mm, I thought you’d grown a bit. I think your grandma might be right about you following the Weasley height genes.” 

“Don’t let James hear that,” snickered Lily. “He’s still bitter that he’s only one hundred and seventy-six centimetres.” 

“That’s not even that bad though,” said Albus. 

“It is when _you’re_ going to be taller than him, though.” 

Albus shrugged. 

“Let’s get you some new clothes then,” said Harry. “Do you want to go to Madame Malkin’s?” 

“Sure, we can also look around at the second-hand shop, too.” 

“Why would you want to go there?” Lily scowled. 

“I’ve found nice stuff in there before,” said Albus. 

“Sure, and then you try on some trousers and it turns out they eat your legs.” 

“Why do you think I’m here, then?” pointed out Harry. “Dark wizard catcher extraordinaire?” 

“I just don’t see why you’d even risk it,” said Lily. 

“You know your mum shopped there growing up and she’s got all of her limbs intact,” said Harry. Then he grinned. “And I would know.” 

“Gross, dad!” exclaimed Lily. Albus made a gagging motion. 

Harry smirked. “Let’s go.” 

Lily and Albus followed Harry to Madam Malkin’s. The aging witch greeted them. 

“Welcome, Mr. Potters, Miss Potter.” 

“Hello, Albus needs some new clothes,” said Harry. 

Madam Malkin came closer to Albus, peering at him. “Of course he does. Come on, up onto the podium.” 

There was another boy getting measured with Malkin’s levitating measuring tapes, who stared at Albus as he climbed up to the podium next to him. Albus wondered whether he had seen this boy at Hogwarts before. He might have been a sixth-year student, because Albus knew he wasn’t in _his_ year level. A measuring tape flew at Albus, and started to measure him. 

Madam Malkin walked over to the other boy, Lily and Harry sat down at one of the couches as they waited for Malkin to finish with Albus. Albus could see them talking, though he couldn’t hear what they were saying. He watched as Lily laughed at something their father said. 

“There you go, Mr. Shacklebolt,” 

_Shacklebolt?_ Now it was Albus’ turn to stare at the other boy. _As in Kingsley Shacklebolt?_ Albus didn’t know whether the previous Minister for Magic even had children, though he supposed he could have been a relative, too. 

Before Albus could ask, the boy had taken his new robes and left the shop and it was only Albus standing on the podium. Malkin took the measuring tape and wrote down some numbers in a notebook and used her wand to magic some fabric in her direction. 

Albus stepped off the podium and waited with his father and sister. Being in Diagon Alley reminded him of the last time he had come, with Harry, Scorpius and Mr. Malfoy, when they had come to Ollivanders to replace the wands that Delphi had snapped. Ollivander described his new wand as being quite flexible and forgiving, something that Albus almost laughed at, because Albus had spent a lot of time being anything but. 

Absentmindedly, he felt his pocket where he kept his wand. Even though they were underage, he’d always been taught by his parents, aunts and uncles to always keep it on him, just in case. After last year though, he wondered how much safety a wand could give him if anyone could snatch it out of his and damage it beyond repair. Albus had no idea how to defend himself without a wand, and he knew more wizards and witches relied on wands more than they relied on themselves. Even still, the amount of guilt and fear he felt after getting his first wand broken made him even more determined to keep this wand safe. 

“Alright, Albus?” Harry asked. 

Albus didn’t even realise he had zoned out. “Oh. Mm,” he said. 

Madam Malkin, who had finished sewing Albus’ new trousers, placed it into a paper bag and handed it over to Albus. Harry paid for the robes and then they left to go to the second-hand shop. 

“Hey, dad,” said Albus along the way. “Did Kingsley Shacklebolt have a son?” 

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ve only met him once a couple of years ago. Kingsley said he’s shy. Why do you ask?” 

“He was the other boy in the shop,” said Albus. 

Harry’s face fell. “I didn’t even realise!” 

“Don’t worry about it dad. I didn’t know until Madam Malkin said his name. I don’t think he wanted to be recognised, anyway.” 

“Oh… well that’s alright then,” Harry said sighing. 

They had reached the second-hand shop and Albus spent a while browsing in there. There were a mix of both wizarding and Muggle items in the store. Various books and clothes and by the end of it, he had to carry a basket around with him for all the things he wanted to buy. He got some money from his dad and walked up to the shop clerk, a very cool looking young witch with a buzzcut who wore platform boots and badges stating _end the use of dragonhide leather_ _!_ And other such badges. Albus even thought she might be wearing one of Hermione’s S.P.E.W. badges, but it was hard to tell for sure as it was hidden behind the fold of a long and tattered black jacket. 

“Twelve sickles,” the witch said, eyes grazing over Albus, then to his father who was looking at a model solar system. 

Albus handed over the money and looked at his pile of things. “Can I have a bag with that?” 

“Sorry, we don’t use bags at this shop anymore.” 

Albus nodded, thrusting a fist into the air. “Right. Protect the environment and all that.” 

The witch laughed and Albus put whatever items that would fit into his bag from Madam Malkin’s, and the rest he separated and gave half to Lily and the other half he gathered into his own arms. 

“Bye,” Albus said. 

He turned away as the witch waved at him. Lily was staring at him, bewildered. 

“What?” he asked as they caught up to his dad. 

“You’re so weird.” 

“I’m not that weird.” 

Lily made a strange face, her voice lowered a few decibels. “Right. Save the environment,” she mocked, then started laughing at him. 

Albus rolled his eyes, ears reddening. “The environment _is_ important. Look, even this thing is missing planet Earth. It must be psychic.” He pointed to the solar system model his dad was looking at. 

“I think this used to be one of mine!” said Harry who had been too interested in the item to listen to Albus’ and Lily’s conversation. “No, I’m pretty sure it is because once in divination class Ron knocked Earth off!” 

“You think Uncle Ron is psychic?” snorted Lily, and Albus scowled. Then she turned towards her dad. “You should tell the staff so they can sell it for an exorbitant price because it’s one of Harry Potter’s old possessions. Wait, you should auction it off, probably. We could probably get two-hundred Galleons for it!” said Lily. 

“Who would want to buy a broken solar system?” said Harry obtusely. 

Albus and Lily both rolled their eyes. Sometimes their dad was so severely unaware of his celebrity status it bordered somewhere between hilarious and extremely irritating, more sowhen he didn’t understand the jokes either of them were making. 

“Let’s just go now,” said Lily, tugging on her father’s wrist. 

“Alright, alright,” said Harry. “I’ll get you some ice-cream, too.” 

“Sweet!” exclaimed Lily. 

They stopped by Florean Fortescue’s and Albus asked for a chocolate ice-cream, Lily got a strawberry sorbet, and their dad, as always, asked for a pumpkin tart ice-cream which Albus could not understand, because why anyone would want ice-cream that tasted like pumpkin was beyond him. 

They finished their ice-cream sitting at one of the tables and when they were done, they returned to the Leaky Cauldron, and returned home. 

* * *

Taking his spoils into his room, Albus laid them all out on his bed. He’d bought a bunch of new clothes from the second-hand shop and called his dad into his room to make sure they were all safe to wear. After casting some spells, the only thing that was an issue was a woollen jumper that was designed to unravel the longer you wore it, which Harry fixed in an instant. 

Albus sorted out his clothes and stuffed it into his trunk, then found out there wasn’t enough space for anything else that he wanted to bring to Scorpius’. 

“Do you think you can do Hermione’s bottomless bag spell on my trunk, dad?” 

“I can try,” said Harry, though he looked doubtful. He took out his wand and muttered a spell. Nothing happened. “Er, let me ask your mum.” 

Albus nodded and waited as Ginny came into his room. “You’re taking all that?” she exclaimed. 

“Yeah,” said Albus. “You never know.” 

Ginny sighed and tried the spell. “There. Did it work?” 

Albus tried stuffing some more things in his trunk, but there was still not enough space for anything else that he wanted to bring. 

“Isn’t this spell supposed to be simple?” Albus asked incredulously. He didn’t know how his father who had defeated Lord Voldemort, not once, but twice, couldn’t figure out how to do a bottomless spell. “At your age too?” 

“Watch your mouth,” Harry snapped, though there was no real malice in it. 

“I’ll find you another trunk,” said Ginny. 

Harry moved to sit on Albus’ bed. 

“Listen, Albus,” he started. “If anything happens at the Malfoy’s-“ 

“Which it won’t” 

“-Don’t hesitate to get in contact with us.” 

“Dad, it’s going to be fine.” 

“But just in case…” 

“Dad, Scorpius has lived in that house his whole life. He is still alive, you know.” 

“Yeah, and just last year he almost wasn’t. And neither were you.” 

Albus swallowed, his face falling. “Come on, dad…” 

“I’m just saying. I just want to be sure you’re safe…” 

“I can be unsafe anywhere. I could be unsafe in this house. I could be unsafe in Hogwarts. You know better than anyone that Hogwarts isn’t actually the safest place in the world.” 

“It is for any other student. It was just different for me because I was the-“ 

“Boy who lived. The chosen one. Yeah, I know.” 

Harry sighed, carding a hand through his black hair. “I’m not saying this to start an argument you know. I just… you know.” 

“I don’t know.” 

His dad looked at him as if begging him to understand without having to say it. Albus knew that he and his father shared the same trait of not wanting to explain themselves. They both just wished that other would know what they meant when they said it. But here, Albus knew he was going to witness his father breaking through that trait. 

He said, hesitantly: “When I grew up, I’d just go sit in the park for hours on end or I would walk around the block just to get away from the Dursley’s. Sometimes I didn’t get back until dark. They didn’t care where I was or what I did or who I saw. And Privet Drive wasn’t the most family friendly street either, no matter how much they wanted to believe it was the best place to raise their Dudley... They didn’t worry about my safety. Not when I was at Privet Drive, not when I was at the Burrow, or at Hogwarts. I was in danger _all the time_ and they didn’t care… so, my point is that I’m not saying this to you because I don’t trust the Malfoy’s. I’m saying this because I _care_ about you and maybe you’re right and you’ll be fine… but I think it would be nice just to hear it anyway because I know how I felt when I didn’t.” 

Albus was silent, staring at his dad. He wasn’t used to this new version of his father and wasn’t sure when the screaming match was supposed to begin. And then he realised that it wasn’t _supposed_ to begin and remained even more silent. Until: 

“Alright, thanks dad,” he said quietly. 

Harry reached over and messed his hair up. “No worries.” 

Someone cleared their throat, and Albus and Harry both turned around in unison to see Ginny standing there by the door frame. 

“How long have you been standing there?” Harry and Albus spoke together. 

Ginny grinned. “Long enough to know I love you both.” She waved her wand, settling an old trunk on Albus’s carpet. “Now let’s get the rest of your junk in here before we all start crying.” 

“Mum, I’ve never seen you cry before.” 

“And you’re not going to,” she said. 

“Hey, is that my old Hogwarts trunk?” asked Harry. 

Ginny nodded and Albus noticed the H.P emblazoned on the sides of the trunk. 

“I had no idea that was still in the house,” said Harry. 

“Well, it works fine, doesn’t it?” asked Albus, crouching forward to check if the hinges were rusted or not. “You know, there are some students in my year who bring _suitcases_?” 

“Yeah, same here!” called out Lily, who was just walking by. “Imagine how amazing it would be if wizards _got with the times!_ ” 

“The more she talks the more she reminds me of dad,” muttered Ginny, then turned to race her daughter through the staircase. Albus could hear Ginny hollering: “If you love the Muggles so much why don’t you just go and live with them!” 

Then Lily, “Alright! I’m catching the bus to Maddie’s!” 

“Maddie lives two and a half hours from here! And you don’t even know _how_ to catch the bus!” 

“Yes, I do! I’ve done it before!” Lily cackled. 

Then, Ginny roaring. “WHAT? _WHEN?_ _LILY LUNA POTTER, DON’T YOU DARE LEAVE THIS HOUSE!_ _”_

Albus and his father looked at each other, both looking rather shocked. “Er… I’d better go and diffuse that,” said Harry. 

Albus nodded, eyes wide. “Go,” he said. 

Harry, with all the speediness of a Seeker, raced downstairs. And the rest of the evening was filled with the glorious shouting of what could only be the Weasley-Potter family. 


	3. The Malfoy's

Harry helped Albus set his trunks in the fireplace so he could Floo himself and his things to the Malfoy’s without any trouble. Standing between his trunks, Albus grabbed a handful of the green powder from the cannister and shouted, “Malfoy Manor!”

Green flames enveloped him. A moment after, he was standing in a large, lacquered fireplace, a pair of pale hands grabbed at him, pulling him out.

“You’re here!” Scorpius said excitedly, wiping the dust and soot off his face and clothes. Albus grinned and hugged him. They had both gotten over pretending to hate the other’s affections last year.

“I’m here! Help me get my stuff out of the fireplace before dad comes,” said Albus.

His father had insisted on coming along just so he could talk to Mr. Malfoy. Albus knew that this was something his parents did. Even before they started to attend Hogwarts, Albus, James and Lily all had been invited to visit their primary school friends houses and either Harry or Ginny would come along with them to meet their parents. Albus, however, did think it was a bit strange that Harry would come along now, even though Albus was much older and that Harry knew Mr. Malfoy already. Albus didn’t think he was wrong to be a bit wary of what his father and Scorpius’s father might talk about.

“Oh right!” said Scorpius, racing over to the fireplace and dragging his trunks out of the fireplace. “Why’d you bring two?”

“Because I have things I want to show you!”

“Okay! It’s so heavy, though,” complained Scorpius

“Use your muscles! Oh wait, you don’t have any!”

“Like you can talk!” said Scorpius, managing to pull one of the trunks out of the fireplace. “Ha!”

Albus pulled his trunk by the handle but it wouldn’t budge, so Scorpius reached over and together they attempted to pull it out, grunting against the weight of it. All very suddenly, Albus was very aware of the proximity between him and Scorpius and fumbled with the handle.

Scorpius pulled too hard and Albus, unprepared for the trunk coming straight at him, got a mouthful full of it. His head collided with Scorpius’s and they both exclaimed out in pain. Scorpius dropped the trunk, which just narrowly missed Albus’s foot.

“Ah!” said Albus, along with a few expletives.

“Are you alright?” Scorpius asked, grabbing Albus’ shoulders and spinning him around. Scorpius gently placed his hands on either side of Albus’s jaw and looked at him, turning his head this way and that.

“I just got whacked in the face with a wooden trunk,” he said plainly. The pain hadn’t caught up to him yet.

“I’m so sorry!” said Scorpius. “I think I got a bit excited.”

“You _think_?” said Albus, raising a hand up to his mouth, which had started to throb.

“Is everything alright down there?” Mr. Malfoy’s voice carried from the top of the staircase. At the same time, the fireplace flashed green and Albus’s dad stood in the fireplace.

“Um, what’s going on here?” Harry asked, looking bewildered at Albus and Scorpius.

With a start, Albus jumped back, Scorpius’s hands falling from his face. “I accidentally ate my trunk,” said Albus quickly, though he wasn’t so sure why he felt like he’d just been caught doing something that he wasn’t supposed to. “I think I chipped one of my teeth.”

He contorted his mouth to show Scorpius, which was somewhat painful. Mr. Malfoy had come down the stairs and was standing behind Scorpius, looking at the scene that had occurred in his house.

“Your teeth are fine, Albus,” said Scorpius looking very concerned.

“Are they?” Albus asked. He ran his tongue along his front tooth. It didn’t _feel_ the same.

Harry stepped out of the fireplace, looking at Albus. “They look fine to me, too. But maybe we should take you to the dentist just in case.”

Albus stiffened. “Actually, I think my teeth are just fine.”

Scorpius bowed his head. “Sorry, Mr. Potter. It’s all my fault.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” said Albus pointedly. He didn’t want his father to think that Scorpius was responsible and give his father a reason to make a problem where there wasn’t one. “I wasn’t paying attention,” he said, though he wasn’t sure why he had been distracted in the first place.

Albus and Harry locked eyes. Albus tried to ignore his throbbing lip, hoping he would be able to downplay how much it hurt. He was just glad his father hadn’t been there to see it as it transpired, sure he would have sent Albus back home if he had.

“Don’t worry about it,” said Harry finally, eyes lingering on Albus’s a second longer than they needed to linger. “He’ll probably just have some bruising and a swollen lip. It’ll help you make friends when you go back to Hogwarts.”

“I think if I went back to school with a busted lip that would just make people afraid of me.”

Harry shrugged. “Some people could be impressed by it.”

“Yeah!” agreed Scorpius. “Remember when Jorden Kendell got into a duel with Gavin Kavinsky and he ended up with a black eye and all the girls were fawning over him?”

“Great. Might as well just beat me black and blue then,” grunted Albus.

“Maybe we should _both_ beat each other up,” said Scorpius. “Do you really think that’s a good way to make friends, Mr. Potter?”

“No, it’s a terrible way to make friends,” said Albus. “I’m in enough pain as it is.”

Scorpius pouted in his direction, but it was more like he was making fun of him for being a baby than by showing any real sympathy.

“Scorpius,” interrupted Mr. Malfoy. “Why don’t you help Albus put his things in your room? I suppose Potter wants to have some words with me in private.”

Harry crossed his arms and Albus gave him a look that was meant to convey something along the lines of _don’t start anything or I’ll never forgive you._

“Sure dad, but uh… can we get a little help?”

Mr. Malfoy magicked Albus’s trunks in the air to follow Albus and Scorpius up the winding staircase. Albus knew about how Malfoy Manor had become the base for Lord Voldemort and the Death Eaters during the war, and in a way, Albus felt like there was a quiet betrayal to his family for being excited to stay here. He knew his father had lost a dear friend in this house, and he knew it must have been all kinds of unpleasant to have returned here. But although he knew of its history, he also knew that the inhabitants of the manor had changed and whatever Darkness there was upon this house had been exorcised the moment the war ended. Albus also knew that a new Light had taken hold of the house and of the Malfoy name, and he knew that the guilt he felt was nothing compared to the loyalty he felt to that new Light.

They had reached the door to Scorpius room and Albus realised he was going to be seeing it for the first time. Scorpius opened the door and let Albus in first. Looking around, it was somewhat different to what he expected it to look like, but it was also very Scorpius _._ The room was full of antique furniture, probably the same furniture that had been here since the Malfoy Manor was established. His four-poster bed was larger than the ones they had at Hogwarts and the drapes were a sheer, silvery chiffon. His bedsheets were silk. A bookshelf was on one side of the wall, filled top to bottom with textbooks, spell books as well as fictional novels which Scorpius usually begged Albus to read, and he said that he would but never did.

His room, like everything else in this house, was grand and lavish, too. He had a wardrobe that extended across the longest wall of his room, and when Albus went to open it, it extended further than he thought possible. “I don’t think I’d own that much clothes in a lifetime!” he exclaimed.

Scorpius rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Not all of them are mine.”

“Whose then?”

“I don’t know. Some Malfoy ancestors…”

“You keep dead people’s clothes in your wardrobe?”

Scorpius shrugged. Albus walked around the length of his room. From his window, he could see the massive front yard, with the impeccably trimmed hedges and the peacocks, ( _peacocks!)_ roaming the length of it. Where the Malfoy’s lived was quite isolated, and suddenly, Albus was hit with how wealthy Scorpius was. Of course, he already knew that the Malfoys were one of the richest wizarding families in England, but it never really seemed so when it was just the two of them hanging out in Hogwarts. Now he was here in his house, it was more than obvious.

Though it wasn’t like Albus could talk. The Potters weren’t a poor family by any means, either. They’ve never had to struggle, not when Harry Potter was his father, and Albus always had more than he ever needed. But it was the difference in the _display_ of wealth. The Potters lived in a suburban home in the outskirts of London, the Malfoy’s owned a _manor_ which had been in the family for _centuries._ It was a bit different on that front, right?

There was a knock on the door, and Albus turned around to see Harry and Mr. Malfoy standing by the door.

“You alright, Al?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, all good,” said Albus.

Harry nodded. “I’ll get going now.”

“Alright. I’ll see you at the train station?”

“Hm? Oh yeah. That’s right. I had it in my mind that the next time I’d see you were during the holidays.”

“Don’t miss me too much.” smirked Albus.

“Bye. Be a good kid and don’t bother Malfoy too much,” said Harry, patting Albus on the shoulder and giving a brief, polite smile in Scorpius’s direction. He turned towards Mr. Malfoy, a look in his eye like he was warning him about something. He said goodbye to Albus one last time and one moment he was there, and then with a loud crack, he was not.

Albus’s gaze shifted over to Mr. Malfoy who was leaning against the doorframe. His long white hair was not in its ponytail that he was usually seen in but hung straight down, not a hair out of place. He was dressed in all black like usual, but without a waistcoat and flashy items, he looked more casual than Albus had ever seen him, though there was no mistaking that he was a Malfoy, born from a stock that put his status realms above the Potters. Absentmindedly, Albus wondered whether Scorpius would grow his hair long like that when he was older.

Like he just realised he was still there, Mr. Malfoy stood up straight. “I hope you enjoy your stay. Make yourself at home?”

He spoke uncertainly, and Albus realised that just as it was Scorpius’s first time having his friend stay over, it was also probably the first time Mr. Malfoy had allowed someone other than a family member stay in his house.

Albus gave him a reassuring smile. “Sure, Mr. Malfoy. Scorpius told me that you’re having some problems in the kitchen?”

Mr. Malfoy shot a piercing look at his son, who exclaimed with laughter.

“It’s true, dad! Don’t deny it! And Mr. Potter is a decent cook, so that means that Albus would be pretty good too, right?”

“I think I’m alright…” said Albus.

“Exactly! Don’t worry dad, I’ve delivered you a new house elf!”

“Hey!” said Albus, elbowing Scorpius in the ribs.

Mr. Malfoy just stared at his son and Albus for a very long time. Albus wasn’t sure whether Mr. Malfoy was going to be angry or if he was going to be something else entirely. It wasn’t until Scorpius swallowed his laughter and it was completely silent when Mr. Malfoy spoke.

“Albus, if you could write me some recipes, that would be more than enough.”

“Of course, Mr. Malfoy,” exhaled Albus in relief.

Mr. Malfoy looked at Scorpius. “And then _you_ will be the one to cook.”

“Dad! I’ve never even touched an oven!”

“Cooking is an important skill to learn,” pointed out Albus.

Mr. Malfoy nodded solemnly. “That’s right, Scorpius.”

“Well then, maybe _you_ should learn too,” grunted Scorpius.

“Maybe… I can teach you both?” said Albus tentatively. “I mean… I don’t know how to cook a lot, but I can do curry, pasta, eggs, pancakes…”

“Stop talking, you’re making me hungry. I haven’t had a proper meal in _weeks!”_ said Scorpius. Then he seemed to change his mind. “Actually, keep talking! You’ll get hungry too and then you can cook for us!”

“The guest does not cook in someone else’s home, Scorpius, or did you only invite him over just so he _could_ cook for you?”

Scorpius looked aghast. “Of course not! I invited Albus over because he’s my friend _and_ he can cook.”

Albus snorted. “Get up then.”

“What?” asked Scorpius.

“I’ll teach you how to cook something. Come on.”

Scorpius let Albus grab him by the arm and he hauled him up from his bed.

“You’re welcome to come, too, Mr. Malfoy,” said Albus.

Mr. Malfoy shook his head. “It’s alright, I’m sure Scorpius will tell me everything once you’re done, anyway.”

Albus nodded. “Lead the way to your kitchen, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy.”

“Wow, middle name and everything. You must be serious.”

“There is nothing unserious about food.”

“Too true,” agreed Scorpius.

Scorpius walked out of his room and as they made their way through the house, Scorpius gave him a tour. Albus followed him downstairs and past a couple of unused rooms, the Malfoy’s personal library and another room that was too big to be a living room with a gigantic chandelier which Scorpius declared were once used for many wizard gatherings and festivities but now, not so much. At the back of his mind, Albus wondered where the place was where Bellatrix Lestrange tortured Aunt Hermione and suspected they had already walked past it. He quickly put the thought out of his mind, because he shouldn’t be thinking things like that when his best friend was the one who was currently living in that house.

Their kitchen, surprisingly, was only a little bit bigger than the one at Albus’s home. There was a pantry, as well a fridge (which seemed to be the only modern Muggle appliance in the entire home,) and when Albus looked inside, they were stored full of various foods and snacks, though he couldn’t tell if there was anything that Albus could salvage a meal from.

He took inventory of the things that _was_ in there. Bread, flour, sugar, tea, coffee, eggs, milk, oil, rice and a couple of herbs and spices and some meat that was frozen in the freezer.

“We never really went grocery shopping often because the house elves usually did all the cooking for us. In fact, I wouldn’t even know where the nearest grocery store _is._ ”

“I suspect it’s quite far,” said Albus, who thought that the Malfoys would have built this house here only because it was far away from Muggle civilisation. “But you’re going to have to find out soon, unless you want to be eating this stuff for the rest of your life.”

“Well, we _do_ have a fruit and vegetable garden in the backyard. So, it’s not just that.”

“Oh, that’s not horrible then. I think I might be able to write down a recipe for curry, but I don’t know how good it’ll be without any coconut milk.”

“But before you do that, can you teach me something simple first?”

“Sure, like what? How to fry eggs?”

“No, more like how to turn the stove on?”

Albus sighed. “Alright. Come here,” he said, walking towards the stovetop. He assessed it and determined it wouldn’t be too different from the one they had at home, even though it was significantly older than any Albus had seen before. “These four switches coordinate to the different grill things here. I don’t know if that’s what they’re actually called, so don’t quote me…”

Albus took his time patiently and calmly telling and reiterating how the stove, the oven and how the kettle worked. He helped Scorpius to crack eggs and told him that one day soon he’d teach him how to do it with one hand. They boiled water, and once they had got the basics down, Albus wrote him a recipe like the curry his dad liked to make. They fetched some pumpkin, potatoes and peas from the garden, waited for the rice to cook, and tried the best to make a decent tasting curry sauce.

They plated it up messily, ate it and despite it not tasting anything much like what the curry he had a couple of days ago, Scorpius told him it was the best thing he’d had in _days,_ and it was so good to eat something warm for once!

“Dad’ll be pleased with this too, I think,” said Scorpius.

Albus smiled at him. “You don’t think he’ll throw it back in my face?”

“No way! He’ll want you to live here forever once he gets a taste.”

“I think you’re the one who wants me to live here forever. Am I bound to you forever now? Sir?”

“Sir?” asked Scorpius.

“I’m your house elf now. You can boss me around now.”

Scorpius giggled. “Okay. Please rub my feet and… give me two hundred Galleons.”

“Ha! You wish! By the way, you’ve got sauce on your face. C’mere a sec.”

Without thinking much of it, Albus leaned over and reached across the table and rubbed at a spot on Scorpius’s cheek. Scorpius’s hand hovered awkwardly somewhere in between replacing Albus’s hand and letting him continue.

“Hm, do you have any tissues?” Albus asked, pulling away.

“I think so,” said Scorpius in a small voice. He didn’t speak for a long time.

“Scorpius?”

He jumped slightly, though Albus couldn’t fathom why. “Oh - Oh, yeah, we should have some somewhere. Just give me a second.”

Albus nodded and Scorpius scurried up from where he was sitting to look in a cupboard. He returned and handed Albus the napkin, that he used to wipe his hands, then he gingerly wiped his face, which had not stopped throbbing from his earlier incident.

He glanced at Scorpius, wondering why he had not grabbed a tissue for himself. He stepped closer and Scorpius took a step back.

“What?” Albus asked.

“What, what?”

“You’ve still got food on your face. Why do you seem like I’m going to hurt you?”

“Oh!” exclaimed Scorpius. He turned around and grabbed a bunch of tissues – too many tissues – and started wiping all over his face.

“Are you okay, mate?” Albus asked, confusion lacing his voice. Did he not want Albus to touch him? Only a few moments ago, he was perfectly fine with it.

“Mm, I’m fine. Why do you ask? Do I look fine?”

Albus shrugged and Scorpius turned away, his face red. Scorpius grabbed the dishes and rushed to the sink as if he couldn’t get there fast enough. Albus could hear him mumble something under his breath, but wasn’t sure if he heard properly, because it sounded like he said ‘get yourself together, Scorpius,’ though Albus wasn’t sure what there was for him to ‘get together,’ unless, for some reason, Albus made him uncomfortable somehow.

“Right,” said Albus under his breath, staring at his best friend. This was strange territory, and he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to approach it.

Scorpius returned to his spot at the kitchen table, smiling at him. It was one of his normal smiles that could have lit up the darkest of places, and so, the worries inside of Albus ceased, at least just for now.

“So… what do you want to do now?” Scorpius asked.

“Let’s go up into your room. I can show you some of the stuff I’ve packed. I’ve got something for you, too.”

“For me? What is it?”

“It’s a surprise. Come on,” said Albus, already making his way back to Scorpius’s room, but then he stopped because the Malfoy manor was like a maze to him and he needed Scorpius to lead the way.

Finally, they reached Scorpius’s room, and Albus found the light switch (wondering who was the one who introduced electricity into the Malfoy home), and went straight for his trunk, rummaging around for what he had bought for Scorpius.

“Here,” he said. “This is for you.”

He got up off his knees and handed a thick stack of books to Scorpius. Eyes brightening, Scorpius looked at the titles of the books and flicked through the pages.

“Wow, I’ve never heard of these! What is it about?”

“It’s a Muggle series. It’s kind of old but I’ve seen the movies and it’s really good. It’s the Muggle’s idea of magic, so it’s not that accurate, but there are dragons and elves and the storyline is really good, too!”

“I bet I could finish it in a week!”

“I’m sure you could,” said Albus fondly. “Just don’t forget about me, alright.”

“Never!” said Scorpius. “In fact, whenever I look at these books on my shelf all I’ll think about is you!”

“I’m so honoured,” said Albus.

“As you should be.”

Albus returned to his trunks and started to bring out other things that he had. There was an old portable gaming device that he knew Scorpius would get a kick out of.

“What’s that?”

Albus switched it on and handed it to him after Scorpius placed his books on his bookshelf. “Is it Christmas? My birthday?”

“Just look at it, you geek,” said Albus.

Scorpius took it from Albus, and he flinched when the screen lit up.

“Did the Muggles make this too?”

Albus nodded.

“Geniuses, literal geniuses. How do you use it?”

“Follow the instructions on the screen.”

Scorpius did so, “It says theres a stylus. What’s that?”

“Don’t worry about that, I lost it years ago, but you can just use your fingers instead”

Scorpius nodded, and Albus watched fondly as he learnt how to work the device, Scorpius’s smile growing bigger as he found out how to play the game.

Albus made himself comfortable on Scorpius’s bed, Scorpius joining him not long after as Albus helped him win the different levels of the game. Their laughter and talking and Albus’s frustration as Scorpius failed to land Mario into the right pipe for the thirteenth time filling up the room.

“The Muggles really know how to entertain themselves,” said Scorpius..

“Mm.”

“Who even thinks of something like this?”

“I guess when you don’t know about the existence of dragons and wizards and goblins, a little Mexican-slash-Italian plumber guy is the next best thing.”

“But they know _of_ dragons and elves, though. You said they were in that book written by that Muggle guy!”

“Some things slip through the cracks,” shrugged Albus.

“True. Nothing seems to slip through to _our_ side, though.”

“That’s not true. You have a fridge and electricity in your house. And now you have these Muggle books and this Muggle game. And aren’t we going into London?”

“Yeah! How did you know?”

“You told me to bring Muggle money in your letter.”

“Oh yeah.”

“What are we doing?”

“Well, I want to see one of those movies.”

“Which one?”

“Something that you want to see. I don’t really know any. I’ve never been to the cinemas before.”

Albus was surprised. He knew that Scorpius had grown up exclusively amongst wizards, but he didn’t think it would be to the extent that he’d never even seen a movie. “Alright.”

“Cool.”

It was silent for another couple of seconds.

“What do you want to do now?” asked Scorpius.

Albus was silent for a few moments, trying to think of something. “Do you have exploding snap?”

“What kind of self-respecting wizarding family _doesn’t_ have exploding snap?”

Albus laughed and Scorpius got up and started rummaging through his drawers until he returned with a pack of cards.

He paused mid-way to the bed.

“What?” Albus asked,

Scorpius shook his head. “The last time I played with these, my mum was still alive.”

Albus felt his heart stop. “Oh… I’m sorry. We don’t have to play if you don’t want to…”

Scorpius hesitated for a moment. “No… it’s fine. Let’s do it.”

Albus moved over so there was more space on the bed so they could sit crosslegged. Scorpius gently took the cards out of the box and shuffled them, and distributed them, placing the rest of the cards in the middle of where they were sitting.

While they were playing the game, Albus could tell that Scorpius really was trying to enjoy himself, but the memory of his mother was attached to the deck, and he guessed it was hard to enjoy himself while remembering his mother as well.

Albus let Scorpius win the game.


	4. London

“Where do I sleep?” Albus asked after Scorpius made a mess out of Albus’s clothes and possessions, looking through the things he packed in his trunk. His school robes were tossed halfway across the room, his Muggle clothes crumpled in a corner near the door.

“In the spare bedroom,” said Scorpius, holing up Albus’s earphones and iPod, “What’s this?”

“You listen to music on it. It’s like the radio except you can choose what you want to listen to.”

Scorpius nodded, impressed, then tossed it aside, looking for something else to poke and prod at. Opening Albus’s wallet, Scorpius plucked out a card. “Is this one of those credit cards?”

Albus laughed. “No, that’s a library card.”

“You go to the _library?_ ” Scorpius asked incredulously. “But at school I have to practically drag you there.”

Albus shrugged. “That’s because the school library is boring.”

“What’s the difference between the school library and the Muggle library?”

“Well, there are computers, for one. They have a pretty good comic book collection at the one I go to. _And,_ you don’t have Madam Pince hovering over your shoulder ready to kick you out if you turn the page too loud. In fact, you don’t have to be quiet at all.”

“You don’t have to be quiet…? In the _library?_ ”

Albus nodded. “And they let you bring in food.”

“Albus… whatever place you go to… I don’t think that’s a library.”

Albus smirked. “I’ll show you then. After we catch the movie, I’ll take you to a Muggle library.”

“Deal,” said Scorpius.

* * *

Scorpius, an early sleeper, got tired at around ten o’clock. They had no issues changing into their pyjamas around each other, because they’d both gotten used to it in the Slytherin dormitories. Scorpius, however, did tease Albus about the emerging hair on his stomach, which Albus in turn teased Scorpius for not being able to grow anything anywhere, which Albus realised sounded wrong as soon as he said it and they ended up having a laughing fit over Albus’s blunder.

Eventually, Scorpius led Albus to his room, which was similar in terms of furniture, but was plainer and a little bit colder than Scorpius’s room. Albus replaced the pillow with the one he’d taken from home and settled in his bed. Scorpius didn’t leave right away, insisting he could stay up a little longer. They spent about half an hour talking about random things, how they weren’t excited to go back to school, about their parents… it took a surprising turn when Scorpius said he wanted to visit Hogsmeade this year, and it would be nice if Albus wanted ask his parents for their permission, too.

“I’ll think about it,” said Albus. Despite fixing things with his father last year, the thought of being out and about with other Hogwarts students still wasn’t all that appealing to him.

“It’ll be good to get out of Hogwarts, too,” said Scorpius.

“I’ll think about it,” repeated Albus.

Scorpius was quiet after that. After a few silent minutes, he got out of bed, announcing he was tired and that he was going to his room.

Albus watched him as he left, flicking off the light as he did so. Sitting in the darkness, Albus refused to feel bad. Even if he didn’t want to go to Hogsmeade, it wasn’t like he wasn’t going to stop Scorpius from going.

He remembered last year when Scorpius had given his permission slip, excited about Hogsmeade. But then he found out that Albus only had scraps of burnt parchment to give to Professor Grimstone, their head of house, he immediately disregarded all the notices on the Slytherin pinboard, agreeing with Albus that Hogsmeade probably wasn’t all that great anyway. They spent all those Hogsmeade visits in the common room, Albus enjoying the silence and Scorpius reading whatever book he had at the moment. Albus enjoyed those quiet moments at Hogwarts the most, when the majority of the student body and teachers weren’t at Hogwarts and it was just Scorpius and Albus together. In those times, Hogwarts became a place that he could almost _like._

But if Scorpius wanted a change of scenery, he wasn’t going to fault him for that. And if Albus was going to _consider_ setting foot into Hogsmeade, it would have been at Scorpius’s request.

Albus made a mental note to send a letter to his parents tomorrow, then he lay down in his bed. The sheets were smoother than anything he’d ever felt, soft and supple. They even smelt a little like Scorpius, of the Malfoy home.

Before he knew it, Albus slipped into sleep easier than he could ever remember doing it before.

* * *

Albus wasn’t sure what time it was when he woke up, but it usually was the case that Scorpius would wake hours before he did, so he left to go to Scorpius’ room. As he expected, he wasn’t there, so he went downstairs to try to find him.

Scorpius wasn’t in the living room or the kitchen, and the manor was so silent that he wasn’t even sure whether there was a living being other than him in the whole manor. Unwitting shivers rippled through him even though he knew that the Malfoy’s would do nothing untoward to him while he was a guest in their house.

He had never been in so large a place with not another soul around him. He had a big family and people were always coming and going. He couldn’t imagine what it was like for Mr. Malfoy and Scorpius to live in this manor alone. It was even bigger than the Burrow and probably could have fit an entire Transfiguration class quite comfortably.

“Scorpius?” he called out. “Mr. Malfoy?” but there was no answer.

Wishing that there were signs to guide him, Albus started to look around for anyone, his hand hovering hesitantly over his wand, though he hated himself for being so cautious.

Eventually he found Scorpius somewhere he did not expect.

Outside. In the backyard, riding on a broom. Looking around, he saw Mr. Malfoy on the ground, carefully watching his son.

 _I thought Scorpius hated flying…_ thought Albus. But as he stepped closer and closer to the paddock and saw the determination on his face, Albus realised that was not the case. He had never seen Scorpius with such an expression when it came to flying, only knowing trepidation and regret, like when they had to use brooms in their first year, when the broom Madame Hooch had given Albus wouldn’t even respond to his commands, and Scorpius was all trembly and wobbly on his own.

Now, though, Scorpius was weaving and dipping and diving like he’d been practising all summer – which he probably had. He probably even had Mr. Malfoy to coach him, too. Albus hadn’t been all that interested when his father talked about his school Quidditch days, but he knew there had been more than one match with Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin rival to the Gryffindor Seeker.

Albus approached the paddock and Scorpius must have noticed him because he stopped mid-flight and descended to the ground. He dismounted a little clumsily, waving at Albus. Mr. Malfoy, who hadn’t noticed Albus approach, turned around and acknowledged him.

“Hey, Albus!” said Scorpius. “I thought you’d be awake later.”

Albus wasn’t prepared for how good Scorpius looked in Quidditch robes. He’d normally only see Scorpius wearing sweaters and trousers or his Hogwarts robes. Not this form-fitting get-up which somehow made his slender body more athletic looking than Albus knew it actually was. Or maybe it had always been like that, and Albus somehow forgot to notice.

“Practising flying?” asked Albus, swallowing his initial surprise.

“Oh – yeah. I hoped I’d be done before you woke up. Sorry if I worried you or anything.”

Albus shook his head. “You’re pretty good. How long you’ve been practising for?”

“Every day since school finished,” said Scorpius. A slight pink tinge coloured his cheeks. “I’ve been thinking about trying out.”

“Oh – I didn’t think you liked Quidditch all that much.”

Scorpius rubbed the back of his neck. Albus watched the muscle of his bicep appear for a moment as he did so. “I never really said _that._ I think it’s all right.”

Albus nodded. He reached out to look at Scorpius’s broom, and Scorpius handed it over to him. It was smooth and sleek under his grip and very obviously new. Albus looked at the inscription on the broom handle. It was a _Nimbus 2020._ It pulsed slightly, thrumming with magic.

“Nice,” said Albus, and proffered it to Scorpius.

“You can try it if you want,” said Scorpius almost hopefully.

“You know how bad I am at flying.”

“That’s just because you haven’t practised,” said Scorpius. “It’s easier when you’ve gotten used to it.”

Albus hesitated. Flying, being off the ground wasn’t all the appealing to him. He’d gotten scorn from his peers at Hogwarts for being the only Potter who would rather be ten feet away from a broom rather than ten feet high _on_ a broom. Even more scorn because his mother had played for the Holyhead Harpies. He’d spent countless hours listening and watching his family play Quidditch while everyone else in his family insisted he stay out of it because of how hopeless he was.

“It’s not like I haven’t tried, you know. I just don’t like it.”

He handed the broom back to Scorpius, who knotted his lips to the side. “All right then,” he shrugged, turning to his father. “Is it alright if we stop now?”

Mr. Malfoy glanced at the two of them with a strange expression on his face. He was close enough to have heard every word passed between them. Albus looked down at his feet.

“Mm,” said Mr. Malfoy.

They walked back into the manor, Scorpius and Albus walking side by side.

“I’m starving,” said Scorpius, “let’s make breakfast.”

Albus nodded. As they entered the house, Mr. Malfoy declared that he was going to his room.

Left alone, they went to the kitchen, Albus instructed Scorpius on how to fry eggs and sauté tomatoes. Scorpius ended up breaking the yolk on all the eggs he made, but it was a filling and satisfying breakfast, nonetheless.

After they ate, they both took showers in the separate bathrooms. The interior of the Malfoy Manor was quite appealing to Albus, who preferred dark and colourless to jolts of vibrant colour like his family enjoyed. He showered in the black ceramic bathtub, watching as the mirror fogged up.

When he finished washing up, he grabbed his change of clothes and pulled it on, but not before assessing his body in the mirror. His mouth had bruised from the trunk incident, the purplish-red mark marring his skin. He chose to not think too much about it, deciding that it made him look cooler than he actually was, though that was probably the only thing anyone could say was cool about him.

He stared at himself some more. Albus was slender like his father but lacking any of the muscles that he possessed. _Or Scorpius,_ thought Albus. He didn’t even know where that came from. He wondered why it was that he felt so strange about it. It wasn’t like he felt inadequate or jealous… it was… something else entirely.

He shook his head of the thought, figuring that it was weird to be thinking like that about his best friend, and got ready. He towel-dried his hair and left the bathroom, returning to Scorpius’s room until he was ready too.

He sat on Scorpius’ bed, feeling nervous. As far as Albus knew, Scorpius rarely set foot into Muggle London, and he wasn’t sure whether Scorpius would be able to contain his excitement about all the strange things Muggles were always coming up with.

The door opened, and Albus was affronted with the sight of Scorpius wearing only a towel around his waist. Scorpius stopped mid-step at the door, obviously not expecting Albus to have waited for him in there. Feigning nonchalance, Albus shrugged, though he hoped that Scorpius wouldn’t notice that the tips of his ears were now burning red.

Scorpius shrugged too, then went to his walk-in wardrobe to pick something out, closing the door behind him as he changed.

Albus stood up and started pacing. Scorpius returned a minute after, dressed much better than Albus expected him to, in a black mock-neck top, a grey blazer, and a pair of black slacks. He looked exactly what a well-dressed upper-class member of society _should_ look like. And it was a sharp contrast to Albus’s black hoodie and jeans combo. He would have thought it was a little _too_ dressed up, but in the city, he would have just looked like a very fashion-conscious Londoner.

Albus pulled on his scuffed black sneakers, Scorpius a shiny pair of boots.

“Ready?” asked Albus.

Scorpius nodded. Albus grabbed his wallet and put it in his jeans pocket, Scorpius a dark brown satchel and slung it across his shoulders.

“Dad!” Scorpius shouted when they went out to the corridor. “We’re leaving now!”

“Have a good time!” came Mr. Malfoy’s reply.

Albus and Scorpius hurried downstairs to the fireplace, standing side-by-side as Scorpius grabbed a handful of Floo powder and shouted out “the Leaky Cauldron!”

The flames enveloped them, and they emerged from the fireplace of the Leaky Cauldron. A few curious glances were drawn in their direction, the son of Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy… together? But it was nothing compared to the stares either of their fathers drew. But maybe… did some people look down their nose at them as they passed? They had gotten similar looks from some students at Hogwarts, and Albus was quite discouraged to know that even adults had the same predispositions that Hogwarts students did. Always quick to judge and quicker to scorn. Albus wondered if people still suspected that Scorpius was the son of Voldemort, or if anyone else apart from their parents and Professor McGonagall knew about what happened last year. Or maybe it was simply the fact of their heritage, Scorpius Malfoy, the son of a Death Eater was usually scorn enough for anyone.

Albus, unable to control himself, glared back at those people, gripping Scorpius by the arm as he led him out of the Leaky Cauldron. He was glad to see that Scorpius wasn’t hanging his head but holding it with a pride only a Slytherin could muster. They needn’t worry about these people’s ignorance anyway, because they weren’t going to be spending much time amongst the wizards. Opening the door, they stepped out into the world where nobody would know their name or who their parents were.

Albus and Scorpius stepped out of the Leaky Cauldron and into Charing Cross road, which was busy with Muggles, cars and buses. Albus and Scorpius quickly joined the throng of people.

Albus was not all that familiar with the streets of London, but he was more familiar with it than Scorpius, having come with his siblings on days out.

He guided Scorpius to the cinema that he and his siblings usually frequented, and they spent some time um-ing and ah-ing about what they wanted to watch and when they finally decided, they went to choose some snacks. Albus grabbed a mint choc-top for himself and a boysenberry one for Scorpius, as well as some Maltesers, two large cokes, and a large box of popcorn. Of course, the prices for the snacks were ridiculously expensive, but Harry’s father had given him more than enough that they would still be able to eat some lunch and then some after the movie was finished.

Handing half of the spoils to Scorpius, he got the tickets from out of his pocket where the ticket guard scanned them, and they went to find their cinema.

The cinema was quite full and Albus and Scorpius had seats on the upper-left side of the cinema, their seats beside two university-aged girls.

The movie they had settled on was a film-adaptation of a Shakespeare play which Scorpius had read over the summer. Albus had been surprised to find out that there were other Muggle writers Scorpius had read, but Scorpius reminded him that Shakespeare had been around before the Statute of Secrecy was in place. “After all,” he said, “Where do you think he got his ideas from?”

Albus had never read Shakespeare before, the only thing he knew about any of his plays were what happened at the end of _Romeo and Juliet_ , but Scorpius was excited, telling Albus that _Macbeth_ was one of his favourites.

The lights dimmed down, Scorpius looking around in surprise when it happened, and even though he knew he had to be quiet when watching a movie in the cinemas, a little squeal of delight erupted from him, which made Albus laugh under his breath.

The trailers started playing and after a few moments of confused silence, Scorpius turned to him.

“Are we in the right theatre? What’s going on?”

Albus explained to him about advertising and after that, Scorpius watched with rapt attention, and when the lights turned off completely, Albus leaned over and whispered to Scorpius that the movie was starting now.

With a pleased smile on his face, Scorpius sat upright in his chair and the film started to play.

* * *

Albus had been completely absorbed in the movie the whole time, not having expected to understand much of it. He didn’t know why he always thought Shakespeare would be challenging to watch. Of _course_ it would make more sense seeing it rather than reading it, since it was intended to be _watched_. And it made quite a good film, too.

Scorpius, too was extremely happy with the adaptation, exclaiming how well Lady Macbeth was portrayed, and how the actors were excellent, too!

They left the cinemas, Albus feeling happy for being able to provide a good experience for his best friend.

Once they were out and their voices could be masked by the sounds of ever noisy London, Scorpius exclaimed in delight.

“That was so cool! The elevators and the lights and the _movie!_ How they can do all that without magic? I’m kind of regretting not taking up Muggle Studies now. Do you think I can learn about them in just books?”

“You can learn about them by just _being_ here,” pointed out Albus.

“That’s very true,” said Scorpius. “Well, what should we do now? I’m kind of hungry. Hey, can we go to one of those quick food places?”

“Quick-? Oh, you mean _fast_ food,” Albus nodded. “Sure. There shouldn’t be one too far away.”

They managed to find one barely even ten metres away from where they stood. It was busy inside, but they ordered the food from the counter (not even Albus was comfortable with using the self-service machine).

Albus ordered for the Scorpius as well, because he wasn’t sure what many of the options were.

They waited for a couple minutes until their food was ready. They grabbed their bags and found seats upstairs, where it was quieter with not many people around.

Albus watched as Scorpius unwrapped his burger and took a small bite out of it and chewed it thoughtfully. As Albus expected, his eyes didn’t light up, nor did proclaim that it was the best food he’d ever had.

“Not bad,” he said simply, which for Scorpius, was like saying it was terrible.

Albus shrugged and took a bite out of his own burger. He was generally of the same disposition when it came to fast food. Compared to the food at home, or at Hogwarts, it was very subpar.

“To be honest,” said Albus. “I don’t know how the Muggles go crazy for this stuff.”

Scorpius took a sip of his drink. “Well, I’m glad I had it. So now I know never to have it again.”

Albus laughed and together they finished each other’s food.

In true Scorpius fashion, he also wanted to check out the countless bookshops lining the streets, and Albus even managed to find himself pulled into a few department stores, where Scorpius checked out everything from the women’s fashion to the electronics. Somehow, they even ended up in a bowling alley, to which they ended playing a game against each other. Neither of them were very good and couldn’t get the hang of how to roll it so it wouldn’t fall in the ditch. They both were determined not to use the ball aide, though, and the game ended up Albus’s favour, who managed to knock down one pin in the entire game.

They ordered some snacks from the bar and some cold drinks.

“I never knew bowling could be so exhausting,” said Albus.

“Me either,” said Scorpius

They ate their snacks, Albus observing all the sounds and sights around him. Suddenly, their view was shrouded by a group of young girls around their age.

Frowning, Albus glanced up at them.

“Hi,” said a tall girl standing in the middle, twirling her curly brown. “I was wondering if you’d like to verse us in a match.”

The group of girls behind her hid their laughter behind their hands and Albus was reminded of Polly Chapman when she and her friends would surround Albus and Scorpius and pretend to be nice to them, when really, they were just setting themselves up for humiliation.

“We just finished our game, sorry,” said Albus, bored.

“That’s alright, you can join our teams. You don’t have to pay again or anything,” said the girl, sounding less confident than she had before.

Albus glanced at Scorpius, who glanced nervously back at Albus.

“Sorry,” said Albus, shrugging. “We have to go now.”

Albus and Scorpius stood up and the girl stood a little backwards as they did so.

“W-wait,” said the girl. “What school do you go to?”

Albus stopped mid-air, staring at Scorpius. Scorpius wasn’t looking at him, but instead was looking at the girls bemusedly.

“Why do you ask?” Albus said, putting a hand on his pocket where his wand was hidden. Were these Hogwarts students? They looked to be around his age, but he couldn’t recognise them. Had he seen them around Polly? He couldn’t be sure.

“Well I - I go to St. Francis. And I was just wondering what school you go to because well-“

“Ah, Tori, Give it up. I don’t think they’re interested,” said one of the girls standing in the crowd, giving Albus and Scorpius an apologetic look, though Albus couldn’t be sure why. He was relieved though, knowing they weren’t Hogwarts students.

“Wait… what are your names? Do you have social media?”

“We don’t have social media,” said Scorpius suddenly. “And we really do have to go. Goodbye.”

Abruptly, he took Albus by his wrist and dragged him from the bowling alley.

“Scorp- Scorpius…” said Albus, yanking his wrist free. “Did you know them? I _thought_ they were from Hogwarts, but I just didn’t-“

“They’re not from Hogwarts,” said Scorpius. “They just rubbed me the wrong way, is all.”

“Rubbed you the wrong way? Why?”

“I don’t know,” said Scorpius frustrated.

“Wait-“ said Albus suddenly. “Do you think they fancied you? Is that why they approached us?”

Scorpius stopped to look at Albus like he was stupid. “Why else do a gaggle of girls approach you like that and ask you to play bowling with them? Ask you what school you go to? Ask for your _social media._ Anyway, I think they fancied _you,_ not me.”

Albus scoffed. “That’s hard to believe. Unobjectively speaking, you’re the better looking out of the two of us.”

Scorpius rolled his eyes, though Albus could tell he was pleased by the compliment.

“What was it? Too focused on Rose to even look at another girl?” asked Albus. As soon as he mentioned his cousin, a strange feeling wound up in his gut.

Scorpius laughed. “Something like that, yeah.”

“They weren’t bad looking though,” Albus observed. Scorpius scoffed. “So, what do you want to do now?”

Scorpius shrugged. “Let’s go home.”

Albus nodded, he was already getting tired of the city and was glad that Scorpius suggested it.

“Wait –“ said Scorpius, grabbing his wrist. Albus turned to him, and Scorpius was looking at him with bright eyes. “Can we go grocery shopping?”

Albus laughed. “Of course you’d be excited about that. The greatest joy of wizards and Muggles alike. Let’s go.”

They found a supermarket nearby and got a trolley. Together, Albus and Scorpius went around the grocery store, picking whatever seemed appealing, as Albus tallied and kept track of the cost in his head. Of course, Scorpius went wild when they reached the confectionary isle, and Albus wondered if he had to stop Scorpius from ripping open a packet of Starbursts and eating them right in the middle of the aisle. Luckily, he didn’t, but by the way Scorpius was glancing at the packet, let Albus know that the only thing standing between him and his sweets was the law.

They reached the cash registers, Albus steering Scorpius away from the self-serve registers once again, knowing that the moment either of them touched it, it would probably fail them.

“Technology is great,” Albus reminded Scorpius. “When it works.”

Unloading their groceries on the conveyor belt, Albus also realised that they needed to pay for reusable bags, so he grabbed a couple and loaded them on, too.

Their total ended up being most of the money Mr. Malfoy had given Scorpius (Scorpius had insisted on paying for the groceries, as it was for his own household, after all). Shocked, Albus and Scorpius each held a couple of bags and left the supermarket.

“I never knew grocery shopping was _that_ expensive,” said Scorpius. “Can’t believe people have to pay this much for food. It’s literally something people need to live!”

“At least you can fill up your pantry now.”

“Hope dad will be pleased,” said Scorpius.

Together they started to walk back to the Leaky Cauldron, then realised they got turned around quite a bit, so they had to stop at an information centre for directions on how to get back.

When the arrived at the Leaky Cauldron, they paid a Knut for the use of their Floo powder, and returned home, arms aching from the bags they had to carry.

Upon returning to the Malfoy Manor, Albus and Scorpius sorted the groceries into the fridge and pantry, nibbling at the snacks as they did so.

Mr. Malfoy came down the stairs once they made enough noise to be disturbing.

“Have a good day?” he asked.

Albus and Scorpius nodded emphatically.

“It was great!” said Scorpius, holding up a hand and counting off the things they did. “We went to the cinemas, ate fast food, went bowling and we went to a supermarket! Next I want to try riding a bus and taking the underground. Oh, we forgot to go to the library.”

“Oh yeah,” said Albus. “Next time.”

Mr. Malfoy nodded, pleased at his son’s excitement. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

“When I get more familiar with it, I’ll take you along, too,” said Scorpius.

“I’ll look forward to it,” smiled Mr. Malfoy. “Now, let me see what food you bought. I’m starving.”

* * *

As the afternoon sky darkened and it turned to evening, Albus found himself in Scorpius’s room once again, where they had a bowl full of sweets between them and Scorpius was listing off his favourite books and making sure that Albus was definitely going to read them this time because he was lending them to him. Which was something that he had never done before so that meant that he trusted Albus immensely _not to destroy them_.

Removing some items from his trunk, Albus fit them snugly beside his Slytherin scarf.

“I can’t fit anymore!” declared Albus when Scorpius was about to pull another one off his bookshelf. “Please stop. I’ll probably take a year just to read one!”

Scorpius laughed. “Alright, then,” he pushed the book back onto his shelf.

“Ready for school?” Albus asked, leaning back on his palms.

“Mm,” said Scorpius. “I should probably start packing now. Want to help?”

Albus nodded and waited for Scorpius to retrieve his trunk from under his bed. Together, they started filling it up with his robes, textbooks, parchment and ink. A few other knickknacks that Scorpius possessed went in his trunk too, as well as some games to play in the Slytherin dorms.

It didn’t take nearly as long as Albus thought it would for Scorpius to pack. He kept expecting some secret beauty products to appear which would explain Scorpius’s acne-free skin and his always perfect hair, but none appeared. It seemed he was born looking that put-together and handsome, something that Albus could barely say for himself.

When they were done, chewing on some more sweets, Albus turned towards Scorpius.

“How’s my bruise? You haven’t mentioned it all day.”

“It looks nasty,” said Scorpius. “I might have some cream for it. Should make it go down by tomorrow.”

Albus shrugged. “It’s fine. You’ll probably need it more.”

“Why?”

“Your newfound love for Quidditch? How many times have you fallen of your broom? Go on.”

Scorpius rolled his eyes. “I barely even fall off it now.”

“Yeah, but you _did._ I remember in first year you couldn’t even stay on your broom for a whole three seconds!”

Scorpius laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, okay. It’s been a few times, but honestly! I’m so much better at flying now. I should take you for a ride.”

“Honestly, I’m terrified of heights. I’d rather be in a car with my uncle than go on a broomstick. I think brooms can sense fear, that’s why the ones at school didn’t react to me.”

Scorpius nodded. “Duly noted. Weird how we’re still finding things out about each other even though we’ve known each other for ages.”

Albus shrugged. “Just how it is, sometimes.”

“You know what else was cool about today?” said Scorpius.

“What?”

“Nobody knew who we were. Take those girls for example. No one at Hogwarts in their right mind would even want to be _near_ us. But they _approached_ us! To be honest, I really want my dad to see what it’s like. He doesn’t know what its like to have people have no idea about who you are and what you’ve done. I think he would like it. That freedom. He barely even leaves the house, you know. I think last year was the time he ventured out the most, because he was worried about me.”

Albus made a small noise of comfort, not really knowing what to say.

“Anyway, I’d just really like to do it again. With you – I mean. Not just with my dad. I had a really great time with you.”

“Me too,” said Albus. “I’m glad your dad let me stay over.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are so inclined, please leave a comment. It makes me feel good about myself. I also enjoy some constructive criticism!


	5. Back to Hogwarts

The next two days passed in a flurry of laughter, sugar and camaraderie. Albus knew to find Scorpius in the paddock every morning and he watched as Scorpius flew, catching quaffles and hitting bludgers whenever Mr. Malfoy targeted one towards him. Albus never had much interest in Quidditch, but for Scorpius, Albus would pretend to.

The time Albus spent at the Malfoy’s was as jovial as he expected it to be. He helped Mr. Malfoy and Scorpius pluck things from the garden, hauling them back to the kitchen. He supervised Mr. Malfoy when Scorpius convinced him to cook. Scorpius gave Albus a tour of the house. He didn’t shy away from the dark history as they walked through numerous corridors and past numerous doors.

Scorpius once had told him that he was ashamed of his blood lineage, of all the terrible things his bloodline had thought and done, but there was no point in trying to ignore it and pretend it never happened. People knew, and they would always know about the prejudice carried with the Malfoy name. He said he would be the one to prove himself – he was a Malfoy, but he was also a Greengrass. More than that, he was Scorpius, and he would be the one to fix the Malfoy name. He would bring pride and awe, rather than fear and disgust. He told Albus those exact words two years ago, after some people at school had bullied him for believing he was the son of Lord Voldemort. He had been a crying, sensitive mess when he said it, though there was a conviction in his eyes that left no doubt that Scorpius _would_ prove it.

And he had.

“Do you ever feel weird about living in this house?” Albus asked when it was getting late. They were both lying in his bed in the guest room. Albus lying on his side with his hand propping his head up, Scorpius on his back, playing with his iPod. Scorpius had quickly become a master with it.

“Not anymore. I used to. I used to cry sometimes, when I think about the history of this house. How this used to be the headquarters for Lord Voldemort. But it’s different now. To be honest, I used to think dad hated it here, too. That because he lived through all the terribleness, he would have despised living here.”

“And he doesn’t?” asked Albus.

“No. I once asked him why we don’t just sell this house and leave and forget about it. But he just said he isn’t going to sell it and he likes it here. He didn’t say why.”

Albus smiled. “It’s because you’re here. You have this energy… like you could wipe away any Darkness just by being there. This house should feel big and cold and empty, but because of you, it feels warm and lively. That’s why.”

Albus wasn’t sure why he said that, but when he did, he knew it was true. When his father forbade Albus from speaking to Scorpius, it was like he had a great big dementor hovering over him and Scorpius was a patronus that could chase it away.

“That’s… a really nice thing to say,” said Scorpius. They locked eyes. In light of the lamp, Albus noticed at Scorpius’s cheeks and ears were tinged a little bit pink. Suddenly, Scorpius sat up and cleared his throat. “Anyway. I’m going to bed now. Long day tomorrow.”

“Mm,” said Albus. “Goodnight, then.”

Scorpius got off the bed. “Night,”

* * *

The next morning, as they were making their way to King’s Cross Station, Albus had once again lent Scorpius his iPod.

Surprisingly, there were songs that Scorpius recognised, and he sang along to them. Albus was strangely pleased to know that if there was one thing Scorpius couldn’t do, it was to sing.

“How do you even know these songs?” Albus asked, laughing and tugging the headphones out of Scorpius’s ears before he could launch into another terrible renditions of his favourite songs.

“The radio picks up Muggle airwaves too, you know,” he said. “I wish these worked at Hogwarts.”

“It wouldn’t even work on the train. Too much magic interference,” pointed out Mr. Malfoy, who was looking at the two boys with fondness. “Anyway, you two ready?”

They were standing at the entrance of platform nine and three quarters. Albus nodded, and one by one, they walked through the barrier to the Hogwarts Express.

They had arrived early so Albus could meet his family before he left for Hogwarts. The platform wasn’t as chaotic as it could be, though that wasn’t to say that there wasn’t any, especially not when leaving for Hogwarts meant there was an inpromptu Weasley-Potter family reunion.

Albus spotted his family standing near a bench. His father, who must have been keeping an eye out for him, spotted him at the same time. He was standing with Ginny and Ron. Hermione wasn’t there, probably off doing her ministerial duties. His siblings and cousins must have already gotten on the train.

“Al!” he said and waved them over.

Albus went to his father, Scorpius and Mr. Malfoy matching step with him.

“Hey, dad,” said Albus.

“Have a good time, then?” asked Harry.

“Mhm, did tons of things! We went to the city… saw a movie… went bowling…”

“Went to the supermarket!” said Scorpius excitedly.

“Sounds riveting,” put in Ginny. She smiled at Scorpius and then – strangely, at Mr. Malfoy. “He give you any trouble?”

“Not at all,” said Mr. Malfoy.

“Not even a little bit?” she persisted, holding her two fingers together.

Mr. Malfoy shook his head.

Ginny humphed. “I don’t think he’s got the Weasley gene for troublemaking at all.”

“Why do you sound so disappointed,” complained Albus.

“Well, it’s not like he _doesn’t_ cause trouble,” pointed out Harry. “He’s got a little bit of the gene.”

Ron stepped forward, shaking his head. “That’s not the Weasley gene, mate. That’s the Potter gene for _I’m going to fuck shit up._ ”

Albus laughed. “Is this conversation backed in science?”

Harry was grinning at him. “Well, I’m glad you had a good time, anyway.”

The train let out a hoot. There was still plenty of time before the train was to leave, but Albus wanted to find a carriage before they were all taken.

“We’d better get on,” said Albus, “I’ll see you during the holidays.”

“Have a good time at school,” said Ginny.

Albus nodded. He turned to Mr. Malfoy. “Thank you for having me,”

“It was my pleasure,” said Mr. Malfoy.

Scorpius and Albus waved goodbye to their parents and boarded train. Inside, it was cramped and bustling with students and their pets. The first few rows of compartments were taken so they kept walking, peeking inside windows until they found one that was empty.

Scorpius, who was walking ahead, stopped suddenly and tapped on a window. Peeking over his shoulder, Albus realised he was saying hello to Rose Granger-Weasley and her posse of Gryffindor friends. She looked at Scorpius knocking on the compartment door, and Albus could see the annoyance rise up in her.

He didn’t know why Scorpius kept wanting to pursue his cousin. They weren’t even _close._ Rose was popular, well-liked by her teachers and classmates, but she had never been particularly nice to him or Scorpius, so it just didn’t register in his brain _why_ he thought she could be interested in him.

Even now, Rose didn’t make any notion towards the compartment door, and Albus had to drag Scorpius away before he embarrassed himself.

“Let it go, mate,” said Albus.

Scorpius, unexpectedly, just shrugged it off. He didn’t wax poetic about Rose’s face, her book smarts, though Albus couldn’t be sure that it _wasn’t_ going happen, it was an improvement, anyway.

It fact, now that he thought about it, he realised that Rose hadn’t even come up in conversation _once_ during the time they spent together. Well, she _had,_ but only because Albus mentioned her when those girls in the bowling alley had approached them. Scorpius, though, hadn’t even let her name slip out of his mouth…

Realising that, Albus felt strangely elated. He told himself it was because now he didn’t have to see his best friend humiliate himself by pursuing someone who was so obviously not interested.

They found an empty compartment and took it for themselves. Scorpius took out a book and encouraged Albus to do the same to the ones he lent him, but he spent most of his time finding something to be distracted by, like the hustle and bustle on the platform, the students trying to make their way through the crowded aisles. The way Scorpius’s sat, lengthwise on the seat, his legs drawn up so he could rest his book as he turned the pages. Even his hair was interesting. It was strikingly white, a colour that couldn’t occur naturally in Muggles unless they had albinism or were old or something. The strands hung in front of his eyes as he read his book.

He wondered how it was even possible that Rose didn’t find Scorpius at least a little bit interesting. He was smart, kind and good-looking, and Albus didn’t know what other traits you would want in a person. Though he supposed it wasn’t any of that that deterred Rose from Scorpius. It was probably his persistence, even though she made herself clear that she wasn’t interested.

Suddenly, there was shouting coming out from outside the carriage. Albus jumped, recognising Polly Chapman’s voice rising higher and higher. Albus and Scorpius glanced at each other and they both stood up, peeking out the carriage door to where the commotion was.

It wasn’t often that Chapman lost her temper, despite all the teasing and mocking Albus knew her for, she generally was a patient person – to everyone other than him. So when Albus looked outside and saw Chapman trying to console a yowling black cat, while also spitting rage at an older boy, he felt a need to mind his own business. If Chapman was yelling, it was better to stay out of it.

“You watch where you’re walking! Look what you did to him!” Chapman held the yowling cat closer to her body. Her pale face had turned red and her blonde curls seemed to be rising from anger.

“I’m sorry,” said the boy quietly. He had a small, timid voice, and genuinely _did_ seem sorry. A pang of sympathy shot through Albus.

“ _Sorry!”_ shouted Chapman. “How am I supposed to fix his leg!”

“There’s a-“

“Stop talking,” spat Chapman. “This is all _your_ fault anyway.”

With a huff, she walked back into her compartment, her cat’s screaming still audible even when she slammed the door shut. The commotion outside had drawn a crowd of people, and the boy looked around, looking ashamed and embarrassed of what just happened.

A jolt of recognition ran through Albus. It was the boy he had seen at Madam Malkins when he went to get fitted the other day, the boy he had discovered was Kingsley Shacklebolt’s son. The boy raised a hand to his eyes, rubbing them. He sighed, leaning against a compartment wall. He muttered something to himself that Albus could not hear. Then out of frustration, kicked at his wooden trunk.

Though his initial thought was not to get involved, he realised that whatever had happened to Polly Chapman’s cat was an accident and he probably didn’t deserve to be yelled at like that by her.

Albus, who considered himself a friend to anyone tormented by Polly Chapman, walked over to him.

“Hey, I just saw what happened. Are you alright?”

Recognition framed his eyes. He looked around, noticing that people’s interest became even more piqued when Albus approached him. Albus saw his discomfort at having so many eyes on him and quickly guided him into the compartment he and Scorpius were in. He shut the door and pulled down the curtain just so no curious eyes would pry.

“William?” came Scorpius’s voice.

Albus glanced at Scorpius, not sure how it was that he knew who Kingsley Shacklebolt’s son was before he did.

“Hi,” said Shacklebolt – _William_ \- glumly.

“You two know each other?” asked Albus, sitting down. He motioned for William to sit down, too, and he took the spot next to Scorpius.

“Yeah… his mum is a Healer… she helped my mum when she…” said Scorpius, looking away. It was enough for Albus to fill in the blanks. Scorpius cleared his throat. “What happened out there?” asked Scorpius.

William looked down at his feet. “I wasn’t watching where I was going, and I tripped. I hurt Polly Chapman’s cat with my trunk.”

“Oh,” said Albus. “Is the cat okay?”

“I don’t know. I’m pretty sure I broke its leg,” William’s face was contorted into one of guilt, sadness and regret. “I feel bad.”

“It’ll be okay,” said Albus. “There’ll be someone who can heal it. Maybe Hagrid.”

“There’s a girl in my year level who loves animals. I tried to tell her, but she cut me off. She would have been able to fix it’s leg in a second.”

“Maybe we can find her? If it’ll make you feel better?” asked Albus.

William looked up. “Good idea. She’ll have to be somewhere on the train, right? We’ve only got a minute until we leave.”

Albus nodded. He got up, Scorpius and William following him out the door. There was less commotion outside now, not just because there wasn’t anyone getting yelled at, but because most people had found their friends and their compartments and were waiting for the train to get moving.

It didn’t take long for William to point out the girl. She was sitting in the next carriage over.

“She’s in there,” said William. Albus peeked in, there were two girls in the compartment to themselves. He knocked on the door and opened it. He was surprised to see that he recognised one of the girls as the shopkeeper of the second-hand shop in Diagon Alley. He wasn’t sure whether she was who William had been talking about though, so he addressed them both.

“Um… I don’t know if you heard, but a girl in my year level has an injured cat and I heard one of you were good at healing animals, so–“

“Which compartment?” one of the girls stood up. It wasn’t the shop keeper, but the one sitting opposite her.

“Follow me,” said Albus.

Now with a party of four, Albus lead them to Polly Chapman’s compartment. It was sort of a surprise to see her sitting by herself. There were always a ton of girls that surrounded her when they were in class…

He didn’t bother to knock, thinking that Polly wouldn’t bother if it was him.

She was still cradling her cat, which hadn’t stopped yowling. The train made one final hoot, and started to move. The cat, surprised, started to twist and wean itself out of Chapman’s hands.

“What are you doing-?” asked Chapman, looking at the crowd now suddenly moving their way into her compartment. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at William, which turned into slits when she saw Albus and Scorpius.

“Vanessa’s going to heal your cat,” said the girl from the second-hand shop as the other one – Vanessa made a beeline straight for the cat.

“What -? No – you’re not touching my cat. I don’t even know you. Potter – what do you think you’re playing at? As if this whole situation isn’t bad enough!”

Before Albus could reply, Vanessa spoke, pointing her wand at Chapman.

“It’ll be even worse if you don’t let me tend to your cat. Now shut up and let him go unless you want to damage his leg even further.”

She spoke with such authority that Chapman – Polly Chapman herself! – let out a obedient squeak and acquiesced the cat to Vanessa.

“Eva, can you hold him?”

The other girl nodded. She grasped the cat holding it up so Vanessa could point her wand at its limp leg. She waved her wand and said a spell and the cat let out a high-pitched squeak before it meowed confusedly. Setting the cat down, she glared at Chapman.

“Don’t leave your cat unattended.”

“Me? It wasn’t me who got it injured!” Chapman glared at William.

“No? You’re the one who’s responsible for his safety, so you should take better care of him.”

“ _He_ was the one who wasn’t watching where he was going!”

“William wasn’t the one who let their cat roam around the aisles when students were boarding the train.”

Chapman opened her mouth and closed it, having no comeback. She reminded Albus of a fish, and there was a sick kind of pleasure to know that at least there was someone in the world who could make Chapman speechless.

Chapman’s cat wound itself around her legs, and she softened a little bit. “Well… thank you, anyway,” she said, the words coming out forced.

Vanessa nodded. As she turned to return to her carriage, she patted William on the shoulder, and then she and Eva were gone.

“What are you doing here?” she grunted.

“I brought her here,” snapped Albus, indicating to the door.

“I hope you’re not expecting me to thank you as well,” said Chapman, glaring at Albus and Scorpius.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” said Albus, rolling his eyes “We’ll leave you alone then.”

The three of them left Chapman’s compartment, and when Albus closed the door behind him, he could have sworn she looked like she was going to say something, then thought better of it.

Instead, he turned to William.

“Did you want to join us in our compartment?” Albus asked. “Or maybe you want to hang out with your friends…”

“Oh… well… I should probably go and meet my friends… but thanks for your help, anyway.”

Albus nodded. “No problem. I’ll see you around, then?”

William nodded, and travelled through the aisle. He disappeared into the next compartment and vanished from view.

“Well, that’s our good deed done for the day,” said Albus, going back to their compartment.

“A good start to the school year,” agreed Scorpius.

They sat back down, watching as the train moved out of the high-rise buildings of London.

* * *

Halfway through the train ride, Albus heard the trolley witch calling out.

“Anything from the trolley, dears?”

Albus and Scorpius both froze, locking eyes with each other. Albus could have sworn he wouldn’t have been so terrified at that moment even if there was Lord Voldemort standing in front of him.

“Just ignore her,” said Scorpius in a whisper. “Don’t even move.”

Albus nodded. When he arrived home after the events of last year, no one believed him about the truth of the trolley witch. In all honesty, Albus found it hard to believe himself. But the fact that she appeared on the rooftop of the train with claws extended out of her fingers like a bad superhero was enough to haunt his dreams for _days._ It was honestly traumatic.

They watched her as she bustled innocently down the aisle. Albus could finally let out a breath.

“She’s so scary now.”

“I know...” said Scorpius. “Dad didn’t believe me when I told him about her.”

“Same. I was talking about it while we stayed at the Burrow during the holidays. It was only George who believed me. Said he’d pulled the same stunt in their second year. He couldn’t believe that we even got off the train!” said Albus.

“I think I remember the trolley witch name dropping him.”

“Yeah. She said my grandfather’s name as well.”

“Must run in the family, then,” snickered Scorpius.

“I’m surprised my father never attempted it,” said Albus.

“Well, he did try to fly a flying car to Hogwarts.”

“That’s true,” said Albus. “Close enough.”

Scorpius laughed.

They were silent for a moment, and then Scorpius went back to his book and Albus resumed looking out the window.

Eventually, the rolling hills started to become spattered with farms, then houses. Albus and Scorpius changed into their robes. They passed through Hogsmeade, and finally, the train stopped at the railway station.

They clambered out of the Hogwarts express, spotted Hagrid calling over the first years while Albus and Scorpius made their way to the thestral-drawn carriages.

Albus stopped, seeing for the first time, the skeletal horses. All of the things Albus had tried to push to the back of his mind, that he tried to put in a box and lock up never to be thought about again, came rushing to the forefront of his mind. A chill ran through him, remembering the death of Craig Bowker Jr. If there was anything that kept him awake at night, it was knowing that Craig’s death was all his fault. His mood immediately soured, a fist clenching over his heart, and he stepped onto the carriage. Looking at Scorpius, Albus knew that he felt the same way. Their trip to the castle was silent, and a word didn’t pass between them as they made their way to the Great Hall and found their spots at the Slytherin table.

He and Scorpius had attended Craig’s funeral. He said his apologies to Mr. and Mrs. Bowker, and the guilt never left him. Craig’s parents didn’t say anything, only cried. He remembered Mr. Bowker, putting a hand on his shoulder, in a gentle kind of way, though that never absolved the blame. It was at the funeral too, that he realised Craig had a boyfriend, a Muggle boy who would never understand why and how Craig had passed away.

It made his skin crawl to think that if it wasn’t for him and his stupidity, Craig would be sitting at this table right now.

Suddenly, he felt a calm, steadying hand grasp his thigh. He looked over at Scorpius. He didn’t smile, or say any comforting words, but his touch was comfort enough, and it was enough to bring him back to reality.

Albus tore his eyes away from Scorpius, and his leg slid off his thigh.

It was a terrible mistake and a tragedy, Craig’s death. It was Delphini’s wand that killed him, but Albus’s actions that made it possible. He knew that he couldn’t bring him back though, that even if he had the chance – if another time-turner appeared in front of him right now – he wouldn’t take it. The guilt could gnaw away at him, but he would never make that same mistake again.

“Distract yourself,” said Scorpius, leaning close to him so no one could hear. “Find your siblings.”

“What?” asked Albus.

“You’re getting anxious. Do something to focus on something else.”

Albus nodded, taking a deep breath, and did as Scorpius said.

Albus sought the crowd for Lily and James. He easily spotted Lily’s red hair at the Gryffindor table, immensely popular and chatting away with her friends. James was there, too, sitting amongst his regular crowd. It wasn't really enough to stop thinking about Craig, but it was a distraction.

Eventually, the doors to the Great Hall closed, the first years standing in between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, looking nervous as Professor Longbottom brought the Sorting Hat out.

At once, the Sorting Hat’s brim opened wide, and it sung its song.

“ _In the time gone past,_

_It may be hard to trust,_

_In Hogwarts, you can find your path._

_Slytherin, to honour your pride,_

_Hufflepuff, to find your tribe,_

_Ravenclaw, to seek your guide,_

_Or Gryffindor to earn your stripes._

_The four houses of Hogwarts you can ask,_

_Where to seek your task,_

_So join your pupils in this quest,_

_Let me find out what’s in your head,_

_And guide you to your friends instead.”_

There was a spattering of applause across the Great Hall. Albus was just glad that the hat didn’t seem to predict anything unreasonable about the year ahead. He didn’t need any other worries to overwhelm him.

They watched the sorting proceed and cheered when the first years got sorted into Slytherin. After the Sorting, Professor McGonagall stood up and spoke a few words to the student body, reminding them all that the Forbidden Forest was out of bounds, and that any troublemaking would be punished.

“And, due to recent events during the past years, we would like to welcome a new staff member to Hogwarts. Madam Chang-Brown will be joining Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing to serve as a counsellor to the students of Hogwarts who may be struggling with their academic or personal life. _Please,_ if you have something you need to talk about, Madam Chang-Brown will be available for you at all hours of the day.”

There was chattering all across the Great Hall. People craned their necks to look at the witch occupying one of the chairs at the teachers table.

“Chang-Brown…” said one of the students near Albus. “Not… not Cho Chang? Could it be?”

“Who?” said another student.

“You don’t know? Haven’t you read _The Life of the Boy Who Lived_ by Rita Skeeter? She was Harry Potter’s first girlfriend.”

“Hey, hey Potter!” called out another student. “Bit awkward for you, mate.”

Albus rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Zabini.”

“Now,” said Professor McGonagall. “Without further ado, let us all feast!”

Plates of food materialised on the tables, anything and everything you could imagine. Albus, though he had been starving before he saw the thestrals, had suddenly lost his appetite.

Scorpius nudged Albus. “Has Hogwarts ever had a counsellor before?”

Albus shrugged. “I doubt it.”

“About time they got one.”

Albus agreed. Maybe last year would have gone a lot different if there _had_ been one, though he doubted he would have wanted to spill his guts out to his dad’s ex-girlfriend, even if they _had_ dated years ago.

At least, though, they didn’t seem to know that she dated Cedric Diggory before she dated his dad. A gnawing struck at his gut, that wasn’t from hunger. He didn’t even know until his dad told him all about Cedric, all about his life before he died. He told him about Cho Chang, about how she grieved. How she found peace. She fought for something that Cedric would have fought for. She found love again and married a Muggle.

He hadn’t considered that Amos Diggory wasn’t the only one who was close to Cedric. He hadn’t known that people grieved in different ways, either.

And now, all these years later, Albus could assume what it was that she had been doing all that time. She must have studied psychology, worked with the Muggles, and now, probably at Professor McGonagall’s request, transferred to Hogwarts to bring a little bit of her Muggle knowledge to benefit the witches and wizards of Hogwarts.

Seeing Cho Chang for the first time, knowing about her story and how she survived the loss of a loved one (and probably many more during the war) was enough for Albus to understand that the guilt he felt about Craig’s death wasn’t wrong, but it didn’t have to eat him up from the inside out.

He reached over and put some food on his plate. He felt Scorpius’s eyes on him and looked over, and noticed he was smiling at him.

“What?” asked Albus.

Scorpius shrugged. “I just feel like this is going to be a good year.”


	6. Charms and Potions

Scorpius shook Albus awake the next morning, early enough so Albus could take a shower, have some breakfast and get their timetables.

The Great Hall was packed with students, Albus and Scorpius were seated on the Slytherin table, between a couple of seventh years.

“Charms first thing,” moaned Albus, nursing a well-needed cup of coffee. “You might as well kill me now.”

“You never know,” said Scorpius. “You might do well in it this year. Your new wand seems a little more favourable to you.”

“I’ve barely done anything with it,” pointed out Albus, which was true. He tried a spell this morning to make his bed as soon as he got out of it, and it worked surprisingly well.

“Try something then.”

“Like what?”

“Levitating charm?”

Albus took out his wand and pointed it at his mug, half full of coffee. “I’ll try and keep it steady,” he said. “ _Wingardium Leviosa.”_

The spell worked instantly. Albus hadn’t expected it to, so he wavered his wand a little bit, though he quickly corrected it before any coffee could spill out. Elation and relief surged through him. The levitation charm was one of the spells that had always eluded him, but it seemed Scorpius was right. His new wand _did_ favour him. He wasn’t sure what it was about his old wand, but this one was infinitesimally better. He carefully set the mug back on the table.

He looked at Scorpius who gave an excited clap.

“I think you’ll ace your O.W.Ls, mate,” said Scorpius.

“Maybe not _ace_ them. Anyway, that was just one spell.”

Scorpius shrugged. “We’ll see then,”

They continued to eat their breakfast, and watched as the owl post flew in. A tawny owl arrived in front of Albus’s plate, and Scorpius reached over and untied his copy of the Daily Prophet from its leg, dropping a knut into its pouch.

Scorpius opened it. Albus leaned over to look at the headlines, looking to see if there was anything about his family in there. Albus and Scorpius both grew up with their family names often headlining the papers. But nowadays, the Granger-Weasley name cropped up the most ever since Hermione was elected as the Minister of Magic.

Again, her photo was in print, she was kneeling and shaking hands with a house-elf. All these years, her worries about house-elf freedom had carried through with her, and though last year it seemed that it wouldn’t go through, there had been a breakthrough throughout the holidays.

Albus read the headline.

_HOUSE ELVES: THE END OF SLAVERY?  
by Rolf Scamander_

_Yesterday morning, Hermione Granger-Weasley, long-time activist for the rights of magical creatures and Minister of Magic, has succeeded in her decades long quest to bring forth the plight of the much subjugated race of elf to the forefront of wizarding atrocities._

_For centuries, the elf was much understood to exist only to serve magical people, and such a belief was so ingrained in a wizard’s psyche it was almost impossible to imagine a world where it could be any other way. Many elves, too believed that was just how things were until twenty-seven years ago, horrified at the way she saw house-elves treated, Granger-Weasley started her organisation the Society for the Promotion of Elvish Welfare (SPEW for short)._

_Well-known amongst the wizarding world for her part in the defeat of Tom Riddle, her efforts to fight for elven rights were never put to the sidelines, dedicating her time and studies to get into work at the Ministry of Magic so she could enter what then was called the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures (now deemed the Department for Understanding and Tolerating Magical Creatures)._

_Even with her drive and determination, it was still a long and hard path for Hermione to get people to understand the plight of the elf, but eventually, the first law was written. All elves must be paid for their services. This was not satisfactory to Granger-Weasley though as there was lots of public outcry from many wizard homes. Granger-Weasley, knew there had to be a way to help wizards understand that the use of an unpaid elf was nothing less than slavery, but she also had to find a way so the elves themselves would understand that they did not exist only to ‘serve their master.’_

_She had to run a campaign so that those bereaved about her activism would understand. Of course, being an activist for the rights of magical creatures myself, I was interested in Hermione’s campaign, and asked her for an interview, which she politely accepted. This, of course, headlined the Daily Prophet a year and a half ago. It was through this interview that Granger-Weasley was able to break down the atrocity’s we wizards had committed to a very smart, very powerful magical being. People slowly but surely understood the problem with using servants as a means of gratification._

_However, she knew she would not be able to persuade the elves on her own. She was not going to be just another wizard telling elves what to do. Her plans were put to a standstill, where she could only make changes to the laws regarding abuse. Then, an elf by the name of Tottle, apparated right in the very office where I was to interview Granger-Weasley about the very subject of elven slavery._

_I was extremely fortunate to be privy to such a moment. Here was an elf who had been listening to every word Hermione had said and decided to make sure that every other elf would hear the message, too. The interview with Hermione had turned into an interview with Tottle, who, like every other elf, had worked for a master or mistress, but unlike most elves, Tottle had enough._

_Hermione let Tottle take the reins of the movement, letting Tottle influence the elves the way only elves could._

_It was many years in the making, but eventually, Tottle gained more and more support. Elves protested and went on strikes and managed to deviate from their inability to disobey their master’s wishes. With Tottle’s guidance, more radical laws followed the first two laws of payment and abuse. The most important change to be made, was that they were no longer to be called a house-elf. Only elf, would suffice, as they no longer had to be bound to someone’s house._

_Now, elves are free to do what they want and go where they wish._

There was a shout of joy from the Gryffindor table, and Albus looked over to see Rose gleefully hugging her friends. Next to Hugo, Lily was fist bumping him.

“I wonder who’s doing the cooking and cleaning now.”

“Probably do it the same way Muggles do it. And anyway, there are loads of cooking and cleaning spells, Maybe McGonagall’s hired a chef.”

“Well, it still tastes the same.”

Albus agreed. It might have even tasted better.

Not long after, the bells rang for the first class, Albus drank the rest of his coffee, and they joined the Gryffindors for Charms.

Albus and Scorpius sat next each other, and surprisingly enough, Rose and her friends sat close to them too. “Hey Albus,” greeted Rose. “Scorpius.”

“Hi,” said Albus, “Tell your mum congratulations from me.”

“Sure,” said Rose. “How were your holidays?”

“Well, you know… You were there for about half of it,”

“And the other half?” she raised her eyebrows like she was trying to make a point about something.

“I stayed over at Scorpius’s.”

“Yes, I heard…” said Rose. “And what exactly did you do at Scorpius’s”

“We went into London. Saw a movie. Went bowling… I don’t know. Just showed him around.”

“Went grocery shopping too,” said Scorpius.

Rose nodded, pursing her lips together like she was impressed. “What movie did you see?”

“Macbeth,”

Rose raised her eyebrows in surprise, “ _You_? Saw Macbeth?”

“I liked it!” protested Albus.

“You even _liked_ it!” Rose cackled. She glanced at Scorpius, and for some reason, her gaze softened a little. “Well, I suppose it’s pretty good.”

“It was good!” Albus felt the need to defend himself, though he didn’t know why it felt like that last comment was directed at Scorpius rather than at him.

“I wasn’t talking about the movie.”

“What else could you be talking about?” said Albus, confused.

“You know… you and Scorpius… your d-“

“Oh look, Professor Flitwick’s arrived. You’d better be quiet before he deducts some points from Gryffindor,” interrupted Scorpius.

He spoke casually, calmly, smoothly. In such a way that Albus had never seen him speak before. Usually whenever Rose was around, he would fumble over his words, he would become flustered… now he seemed rather… cool. Was this just some new trick he was using to impress her? His face did seem a bit red…

Rose seemed confused, then understanding seemed to dawn on her, though Albus had no idea what there was to understand. She turned around, and indeed Professor Flitwick was approaching the blackboard. Quietly, she leaned over to her friend and whispered something to her that Albus couldn’t catch.

“What was that?” Albus leaned over and asked Scorpius.

“I don’t know,” said Scorpius. “Let’s not worry about her.”

“I was talking about _you._ ”

“Me? Why?”

Albus was about to reply, but Professor Flitwick started the class.

“Welcome, students, to your fifth year,” he said. “Of course, you should all be preparing for you upcoming O.W.Ls and therefore I hope you’d all be taking this very seriously-“

The door swung open, and Polly Chapman came in, her usually curled hair hanging limply around her face, quite longer than Albus realised it was. She quite red. It hadn’t ever occurred to Albus that Chapman could be flustered or embarrassed or _late._

“Sorry, professor,” she said in a quiet voice.

“As it’s your first day, I’ll forgive you. Another time and it’ll be five points from Gryffindor.”

Chapman nodded, looking grateful. She glanced around for a spare table. There was one at the front of the room, and she quickly slid into it. A few of the girls surrounding Rose giggled, and Albus suddenly recognised them as Polly’s friends… however… the way Polly looked right now, the way none of them called her over to sit with them… the way they _giggled…_ it made Albus think that maybe they weren’t her friends any longer.

Albus looked over at Scorpius, wondering if he had noticed Polly’s newly deflated confidence, but he wasn’t even looking in her direction. He had already opened up his schoolbooks.

Albus returned to his position. He recalled Polly sitting alone in her train compartment. How she looked like she wanted to say something to Albus but thought better of it. Then Albus started to wonder why he even cared. Maybe Polly’s friends got tired of her teasing and her bad personality. Except whenever she wasn’t talking to Albus, he’d always seen Polly with a bright smile on her face and making all her friends laugh. It was only to Albus and Scorpius that she’d been a bit… off. Though it was kind of sad to see her all alone. Maybe if the opportunity arose, he wouldn’t oppose the idea of extending an olive branch. He knew what it was like to be lonely.

Professor Flitwick resumed the class.

“As I was saying, your O.W.Ls are one of the most important exams you will be taking as a student at Hogwarts. This year, you will be fully expected to dedicate your time and free evenings to your studies, and you must adjust to the workload as soon as possible. There are study guides available in the library, and if you need any help or assistance, I, and all of your other teachers will be around to address any concerns, in person or though the post.

“Those of you who have struggled with the wand work in the past would be advised to practise as much as possible to ensure that no mistakes will be made during your O.W.Ls, because you should expect to recall the curriculum from all your other years attending Hogwarts.”

To this, Albus felt especially targeted. He had only managed to cast the levitating spell correctly for the first time today. He had a _lot_ to catch up on. He sighed audibly, and Scorpius leaned over.

“I’ll help you, don’t worry,” he said

Albus nodded, though he doubted he wouldn’t _not_ be able to worry. His nickname was the Slytherin Squib for crying out loud. One correctly performed spell didn’t negate all the other poorly performed spells he had failed to master in all these years.

Professor Flitwick picked on a few students to demonstrate the charms the students were supposed to have mastered. Albus was glad he had gained a reputation for being terrible at wand work. He needn’t worry about Flitwick picking on him.

“Potter, would you mind demonstrating the Banishing charm?”

Albus’s blood ran cold. “Sir?”

“The Banishing charm, Potter.”

So much for his reputation. Albus scowled.

Suddenly faced with the prospect of humiliation, Albus took his wand and pointed it at his pencil case. He glanced up at Professor Flitwick, who subtly swept his wand, a calm and expectant smile on his wrinkled face.

Albus mimicked him, “ _Depulso,”_ he said.

To his and everyone else’s surprise, his pencil case went flying through the air, hitting Rose on her shoulder.

“Sorry,” said Albus in shock, staring at his wand.

Rose didn’t say anything, only gently handing his pencil case back.

“Excellent, Mr. Potter!” said Flitwick.

Albus sat back down.

“Told you this was going to be a good year,” said Scorpius, patting him on the back,

Albus nodded, staring at his wand. He remembered going to Ollivander’s when he was eleven, excited to be getting his first wand. He had tried out many, and eventually was getting down-hearted when he reached his eighth wand. It hadn’t been a match. Frustrated, he tried two more, hoping he would feel the rush through his blood, under his skin, the magic that would mean the wand had _chosen_ him. When he tried the tenth wand, he _had_ felt something, a kind of pull towards it, but it hadn’t been a rush of magic. At least not how his family had described it. It had just been a connection, rather than an understanding.

His new wand was made of fir, which Ollivander deemed very fitting, though he wouldn’t say why. It was only when they went to Ron and Hermione’s one day that Albus went looking through Hermione’s library that he realised what it meant.

He had found a book on wandlore, and flicking through the pages, he read that wands made from the wood of a fir tree were drawn to those who had survived mortal peril. It was for that reason it was sometimes called the survivors wand. He looked up his old wand too, and found that hawthorn was contradictory, and prone to backfiring in less talented witches or wizards. The tree even had a certain smell of _death_ , something that felt like a bad omen from the start. Despite reading further to find out that its blossoms also had the ability to heal, he made the connection then, that his wand hadn’t favoured him at all, it had just felt some strange emotion in him. Something that he didn’t know how to recognise or how to heal from until it was too late.

Thinking back to that, it gave him some courage, to think he had survived Delphi’s manipulation, her cunning, his own shortcomings. The fir wand had chosen him because he had done so. There had been an understanding, when the wand chose him, differing from his hawthorn wand, because he understood the very thing about himself that he didn’t when he was eleven.

Now he had the right wand, he would be able to perform magic. He didn’t have to be called the Slytherin Squib anymore.

Professor Flitwick started going through the curriculum for the year and Albus pulled out his ink pot and quill from his pencil case and started to write down his notes.

* * *

Albus and Scorpius made their way to Potions after Charms was over. One of Albus’s more preferred classes, since wand work wasn’t usually required very much in that class, though he doubted that would be much of an issue anymore.

They were with the Gryffindors again for Potions, and for this class, Rose sat further away from them than she had in Charms. He still wasn’t sure what she had been angling at before.

Polly Chapman wandered in, looked around for someone she could partner up with. Albus took his bags off the seat next to him, indicating that Chapman could sit with them. Scorpius looked at him like he was crazy, but when he looked around, he too, noticed that no one seemed particularly inviting to Polly, and Scorpius was no bearer of grudges.

Hesitantly, Chapman walked over. As she did so, Albus noticed one of the girls sitting with Rose nudge over and whisper something to her friend, her eyes never leaving Chapman.

Quietly, she sat down. She didn’t acknowledge Albus or Scorpius, but Albus hadn’t expected her to. She put her bags down under the table and sat with her hands demurely in her lap. Sometime during the walk to class, she had pulled her hair up in a ponytail.

Professor Grimstone walked in. She was their head of Slytherin house and possibly the youngest member of faculty in Hogwarts. She was six-foot-tall with short red hair and she was never seen not dressed in black. She was known for being the ‘cool’ teacher at Hogwarts, being able to command a class and teach it effectively well, but also being lenient and understanding whenever a student struggled, always desiring for them to reach their full potential, and instilling within them a desire for ambition that only a Slytherin would know how to do.

Grimstone cleared her throat and started the class. Already, her method of teaching was different from Professor Flitwick’s.

“Welcome back to a new year at Hogwarts,” she said. “I am aware you’d all be preparing for your O.W.Ls hopefully as soon as you return to your common room. And I would like to see what it is you know. Pick a potion from your textbook, and try to make it for me. It can be anything you wish, provided that it can be finished by the time class ends.”

Immediately Albus took out his text book, looking through the contents so he could find one that was interesting enough. He glanced over at Scorpius, who was already pouring over his. Chapman, though, was rummaging through her back, growing increasingly more frustrated. She caught Albus’s eye.

“Did you leave it in your dorm?” he asked.

Chapman sighed. “Must’ve.”

“We can share, if you want.”

“What if I want to do a different potion than you?”

Albus shrugged. “Tear the page out? Write down the method? I don’t care. I’ll _reparo_ it later.”

“I’ll just do the same one your doing,” she sighed, glancing over at the page Albus had settled on.

“Well, I’m tossing up between two,” said Albus, a slight flush on his face.

“A beautification potion?” exclaimed Chapman. She was a bit loud, and a few heads turned towards them. Chapman went red when she noticed the eyes on her, which was probably the first time she had ever been uncomfortable with people looking at her. “Why would you want to do that?”

“It sounded fun,” protested Albus. “Fine, if you don’t want to do that we can do a Calming Draught.”

Chapman turned her nose. “That’s boring. Let’s do the beautification one.”

Albus smirked. “No worries.”

“Whoever finishes it first wins.”

“Trust a Gryffindor to turn it into a competition.”

“O.W.Ls are a competition against the whole school,” sang Chapman.

Albus rolled his eyes, scanning the list of ingredients. Before he could even read them, Polly grabbed the textbook and was already waltzing over to the potions cabinet.

“Hey!” called out Albus, turning to look at Scorpius exasperatedly, but he was still flicking through the pages of his textbook and had apparently not noticed. Albus shrugged, not noticing the way Scorpius’s jaw was clenched, nor the tight grip on his quill.

Albus got up from the table, following Chapman into the cabinet, leaning over her shoulder so he could read the ingredients. Chapman, surprisingly, handing him everything he needed and they returned to the table with their arms full of glass jars. As they sat down, Scorpius stood up, having found his desired potion.

Albus immediately went to work on grinding his fairy wings, adding them to the cauldron. He didn’t take Chapman’s competiton declaration seriously, and just focused on the instructions, following them carefully.

Scorpius returned to the table.

“What potion are you doing?” Albus asked.

“Calming Draught,” he said blandly.

Albus nodded, turning back to his cauldron.

Professor Grimstone started to pace around the class, glancing into student’s cauldrons. She praised Rose’s idea to make a Euphoria potion and nodded appreciatively when she saw Albus and Polly sharing his textbook and arguing over what they thought they would look like after they had taken their potion.

“Well, obviously I would look exactly the same,” said Polly. “ _You_ one the other hand…”

Albus scowled. “I don’t think I’d look _that_ different.”

Grimstone walked over to them. “Did you know that this particular potion changes you so you’d take on the characteristics of what _you_ consider beautiful? If Polly here finds herself the most beautiful creature in the world then there really would not be a change to behold.”

“Then how would you know if it worked?” asked Polly.

“If it didn’t work, you would have brewed it wrong. And that results in the opposite effect. You would turn very ugly.”

After that warning, Polly and Albus took extra care in making sure they were brewing their potion correctly.

Grimstone peered over Scorpius’s shoulder, patting him on the back. “A calming potion. Very good for your fifth year. I expect you’d be brewing this one a lot.”

Scorpius didn’t say anything, and Professor Grimstone left to check on other students.

Albus stirred the ingredients of the potion, when the morning dew rose to a boil, he let it simmer, adding his fresh rose petals. The aroma filled his nose, and he added the Lady’s Mantle as well. He had to let it steep for fifteen minutes before he could add his unicorn hair. He glanced over at Scorpius, who was grinding his lavender with probably a bit more force than what was necessary.

Scorpius must have felt his eyes on him, because he looked up, grey eyes piercing. Suddenly, Albus felt like he had done something wrong, though he could not say what.

“Everything alright, mate?” said Albus.

“Nothing at all,” said Scorpius, returning to his cauldron.

Albus frowned. He wasn’t sure why, but he knew Scorpius was lying. There _was_ something wrong. He looked at Polly from the corner of his eye. Was he upset because he let Polly sit with them? Was he wrong about Scorpius, that he actually _did_ hold grudges…?

Surely not. He was the one who still pined after Rose all these years, and she had never been nicer to them than Polly ever was. It must have been something else then…

He would have to ask him later. Whatever was wrong, whatever prompted his sudden change of mood, there were no secrets between him and Scorpius, and whatever it was, Albus would understand. And if it was some fault of his own, he would apologise immediately.

The fifteen minutes was up, and Albus added the unicorn hair, which made the potion gleam prettily, like there were sunspots dancing off the liquid. He added the ginger root and turned the heat up again until it boiled. He waved his wand over the potion and extinguished the fire.

“Done,” he teased Polly, who was finishing up only a few seconds behind Albus. She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Shall we try it?” asked Polly. “I have a mirror.”

She pulled out an old-fashioned looking mirror from her bag, the kind that they would have used in fairy tales. Of course, Polly would have carried something that extravagant with her in her bag, but not her textbooks.

“Sure,” Albus got up and fetched two metal cups from the cabinet. He returned to the table, handed one cup to Polly.

He wanted to see what would happen to Polly first, see if she really would remain the same.

She ladled her potion into the cup, and drank it. They weren’t the first students to finish their potion, but they probably had the most interesting one out of the whole lot of them, so a few heads turned their way.

When Polly finished drinking, nothing happened for a few moments, until her hair started to curl in her ponytail. She tugged out the hair tie, and her hair fell around her face, much glossier and a little more like how Albus was used to. Her eyebrows too, had a subtle change and grew a little thicker, her eyelashes a little longer. Other than that though, she looked just the same as she did when she put on a little makeup. She was already quite pretty, even Albus had to acknowledge that, so there were not many things to improve on, at least in her eyes. Albus wondered what it felt like to be _that_ confident with himself.

Polly checked her reflection in the mirror, seemingly pleased with herself.

“Your turn,” she said.

Now there were more than a few heads turned his way, Rose amongst them. He glanced at Scorpius, who had his head down, focusing on his potion, though Albus saw him try to sneak a glance at him as he poured his potion into his cup.

“Alright then,” said Albus, and drank the potion.

He could feel the effects immediately. While Polly remained mostly unchanged, he could tell that would not be the case for him, though Albus wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like he was ugly. He did sometimes catch his reflection in a mirror and surprise himself because he didn’t look that bad. He wasn’t sure why he could feel his entire bone structure changing.

Quickly, he grabbed for Polly’s mirror, his sharp jawline became more delicate, still retaining the edge though. His eyebrows thinner, his nose more aristocratic. His cheekbones higher. His hair, still black, was a lot less messy and hung in front of one of his eyebrows, reminding him of someone, but he wasn’t sure who. Maybe a movie star, or someone he’d seen on a billboard… He stood up as his body began to change too. Slightly taller, leaner, he even felt a little stronger.

He wasn’t sure what it meant to be beautiful, knowing it was different for everybody. He never felt inadequate about himself but looking in the mirror felt like he was looking at someone else… a different version of someone he’d seen before. Someone who he must have thought was very good looking.

“He looks like a taller, black haired Scorpius!“ said one of the Gryffindors sitting with Rose.

“Do I?” said Albus, realisation running through him. He looked at the mirror, then looked at Scorpius, who was staring at him red faced, wide-eyed, his mouth agape. Albus suddenly felt his blood run cold, a blush racing up his neck, though he didn’t know why. He often declared that Scorpius was one of the most good-looking people he knew, and the Slytherin’s certainly knew that there was no other rival on looks in their year level when it came to Scorpius…

But to have it declared in such a way, that there was some deep, personal part of him that Albus’s ideal beauty _was_ Scorpius, well, it was different, in a way, wasn’t it? It spoke of some sort of desire that Albus hadn’t known to think of before. What was it? That he wanted to _look_ like him? If that were true, he would fight with his hair every morning so he could manage it into a style similar to his. So it wasn’t that…

Albus overcame his original shock.

“Well, who wouldn’t want to look like Scorpius?” said Albus, trying to muster up as much humour in his voice as he could manage. He wasn’t sure if he succeeded. Well, who cared if Scorpius was his standard of beauty anyway? He doubted he was the only one who this kind of thing would happen to.

Suddenly, he caught Rose’s eye, who was looking at him in a very, very funny way.

Albus sat back down, wondering how long the effects of the potion would last. He wished the potion worked just to improve small parts of himself like it did for Polly. This was… kind of embarrassing.

“Al…” said Scorpius quietly, and Albus turned to look at him. He was staring at him in a way he had never seen Scorpius look at him before. He didn’t say anything further.

“Your cauldron is overboiling,” said Albus, nonchalantly. Surely this was something he and Scorpius would laugh over in their dormitories later that night.

Startled, Scorpius waved his wand, the fire extinguished. He turned away from Albus, and quickly got up to get a sponge. He wasn’t laughing, didn’t have an etch of humour on his face. He only looked… surprised… a bit overwhelmed, too. Albus couldn’t fathom why.

He returned with a metal cup, filled his calming potion with it, and drank it faster than Albus would have, knowing the taste of it wasn’t all that great.

Scorpius settled back down in his chair, looking like he was back to normal. The potion had worked, though Albus wasn’t sure why he needed it.

Professor Grimstone let them have their study period early.

“Well,” she said. “That was a very interesting class. I’ve noted your achievements and your failures and I believe most of you will do well in your potions exams, from what I’ve seen today. Just don’t brew anything that you’ll regret,” she said and the words felt like they were meant for Albus. Were _all_ his teachers going to be like this?

Albus waved goodbye to Polly, who was filling her potion in multiple vials. He sighed, glad that she at least could get some use out of her potion, unlike Albus.

Albus and Scorpius walked towards the dungeons.

“So… too bad I don’t have black hair then,” said Scorpius. He didn’t seem upset anymore. He even had a slight smirk on his face. If Albus didn’t know he didn’t have an arrogant bone in his body, he might have even said he looked a bit cocky.

“Shut up,” groaned Albus. “The potion doesn’t work to change your hair or skin colour.”

“So it could have?” smirked Scorpius.

Albus laughed, punching him lightly on the side. “Yes, okay we get it. I think you’re the handsomest creature in the world and now I have to walk around for who knows how long parading that fact.”

“You’re taller than me, though. I guess you like them tall as well as older.”

Albus groaned. “Please stop talking.”

They arrived to the Slytherin common room. Albus made sure to keep his head bowed so no one could see what had just transpired, though he was sure the news would make it all the way around the student body by the time Albus made it up the stairs to the dormitories.

“I’m going to the library. I suppose you’d want to wallow around in the dorms until the effects of the potion wears off.”

“You would be right,” said Albus, throwing himself face down onto his bed. He could feel his ears burning.

He heard Scorpius chuckle, then he grabbed a few textbooks from his trunk and left the dorms.

It wasn’t long until the door swung open again. Albus turned over, but it was just Francis Bulstrode.

“Ugh, not you,” groaned Albus, not seriously. He turned back around so his face was smothered in his pillow.

Francis chuckled. “Hoping it was your crush?”

“My _what_?” said Albus, his voice muffled by the pillow.

“Ooh Scorpius is so pretty, Scorpius is so handsome. I think he’s so beautiful…”

“Don’t act like you don’t think the same,” groaned Albus, turning his head so he could look at Francis. “Stop teasing me about it. _Besides,_ I don’t have a crush on him.”

“Ha!” said Francis, “I do agree that he’s got the best of both the Greengrass and the Malfoy genes, but I wouldn’t have turned into a copy of him if I took that potion. My friend, there’s something much deeper going on there.”

“Stop projecting onto me,” said Albus, drawing the covers over his face. “Everyone knows about _your_ crush on Michael Zabini.”

“He’s hot, what more can I say?”

“Nothing. Say less.”

Francis chuckled under his breath, but surprisingly, didn’t tease Albus anymore.

He heard Francis trot around the room. He was quite burly, so his footsteps were loud. Eventually though, he too left the dorms.

Albus sat up almost as soon as he heard the door close. He did _not_ have a crush on Scorpius. At least, he didn’t think so. There was nothing wrong with acknowledging his mate was good-looking, and Scorpius hadn’t taken it the wrong way. No doubt though, this was going to be a rumour spread throughout all of Hogwarts.

He groaned, slumping back on his bed. Maybe if he took a nap, the effects would wear off faster.

* * *

It did. He woke up half an hour later, feeling groggy, but he managed to pull himself to the bathroom to see himself looking back to normal. He washed his face and brushed his teeth quickly, before putting on his shoes and making his way to the library where he was sure Scorpius would still be.

A few people caught his eye and giggled at him, and Albus knew his fears about the rumours had spread. He ignored them, grateful that at least no one was jeering at him.

He didn’t make it to the library, because he spotted Scorpius sitting a bench in a corridor, Rose beside him, looking very deep in conversation.

They hadn’t spotted him, yet Albus didn’t want to interrupt them. Judging by Scorpius’s strained expression, their conversation looked very serious. But for some reason (and he felt very bad about it), he wanted to know what they were talking about. Maybe Rose was rejecting him once and for all.

He stepped close enough to hear snatches of their conversation, but far enough so they wouldn’t spot him.

“It probably didn’t mean anything, anyway,” said Scorpius. “He always does things like this, giving me compliments, building me up… it makes me think… I don’t know.”

“I know what you think,” said Rose. She patted him on the shoulder. “But it’ll be fine. I know he can be a bit obtuse, but he’ll realise it sooner or later. Anyway, I’m a shooter for you guys. Don’t give up hope.”

He heard Scorpius chuckle. “A shooter – what does that even mean?”

“It’s a Muggle expression. Don’t worry about it, it just means I’ll get rid of anyone that tries to get in your way.”

Albus frowned, his mind was reeling. Were they talking about _him_? Were Scorpius and Rose that close? Albus didn’t know it was wrong to give his friend compliments… Maybe he _had_ went too far with the potion, but it wasn’t like he knew what was going to happen. But the way they were speaking about it didn’t sound like Scorpius was _mad_ about it… in fact, it sounded like they were _planning_ something. ‘ _I’ll get rid of anyone that gets in your way’_ that sounded violent, even for Rose.

Albus heard footsteps and new they were coming closer. Albus quickly moved so it looked like he was just coming from the library, like he had tried to find Scorpius there and was only just returning. He schooled his face into something neutral and pretended to almost bump into Scorpius and Rose.

“Oh, fancy seeing you two here,” he said nonchalantly. “You know… at school.”

Who was he kidding? That sounded lame, even for him.

“Right…” said Rose.

“Y-you’re back to normal,” said Scorpius.

“Yes, thankfully. I guess you’re done in the library though. You two have fun?”

Scorpius swallowed nervously, though there was no way he could have known Albus had been eavesdropping.

“Yeah. Loads of fun. Books are great.”

Albus nodded slowly. He noticed the prefect badge on Rose’s clothes.

“No one told me you were prefect,” he said suddenly.

Rose looked down, like she had just remembered, too. “Oh. Yeah. Following in my parents’ footsteps and all that.”

Albus nodded. “Good for you.”

“Anyway… I think I see Rhiannon over there. See you later, I suppose.”

She quickly hurried off. Albus turned to Scorpius. “So… what were you two doing together.”

Scorpius rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. “Oh, you know… getting rejected again. You know, she might be warming up to me.”

To hear him lie so blatantly, Albus felt something in him shatter. He frowned. “Oh yeah. Of course.” The stood still for a moment, just staring at each other. Albus cleared his throat. “You know what. I think I left my Ancient Runes textbook in the dorms. Have fun at Care of Magical Creatures.”

He turned and left. He left like he couldn’t go fast enough.

What in Merlin’s saggy left ballsack was this? First, he and Rose conspiring together for something Albus was not privy to, then Scorpius lying outright to him? Hadn’t they promised to tell each other everything?

Albus made it to class 6A fifteen minutes before class started. The room was empty, and Albus slumped all his things on his desk, resting his arms on the table and leaning over so he could rest his head in his arms. He didn’t know why it felt like everything was changing so suddenly. Hadn’t they had a great time when Albus stayed over at Scorpius’s? Now with all these other people around, it felt like they couldn’t just be themselves.

Albus shook himself out of those thoughts. It was probably nothing. He didn’t need to know _everything_ about Scorpius’s worries. If there was something he couldn’t tell him, there would have been a reason for it.

Albus groaned into the table.

He _wanted_ Scorpius to tell him everything though.

At least nothing terrible had happened, he reminided himself. They didn’t have a fight. They were still friends. And, if he thought about it, it sounded like Rose was giving him advice. He didn’t think Rose was that good at giving advice, in all honesty… but he would have rathered it was her giving him advice that anyone else.

And… at least it confirmed one thing… Scorpius had given up on Rose. He had lied to him about asking her out… it made him wonder how many other times it was a lie.

For some reason, it made Albus feel a tiny bit better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fellas is it gay to take a potion that turns you into your ideal beauty standard and u turn into your best friend? asking for a friend


	7. Albus Unanswered

A few moments later, Rose entered the classroom. Albus had forgotten she was doing Ancient Runes too, even though they had talked about it during the summer. She made her way towards Albus, slung her books on the table, and turned to him.

He wasn’t sure why it was that Rose was so friendly now. He knew that it was of her own volition, not because their parents had convinced her to be nice to him. Maybe it was just because none of her other friends were taking this class and it was almost a necessity to have a partner to study Ancient Runes with.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said when she sat down. Albus hadn’t been aware he was looking at her with an odd expression. “Am I not allowed to sit next to you?”

Albus made an exaggerated face of disgust “No. Leave my presence immediately”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Shut up.”

A few more students came into the class, saying hello to Rose before sitting down at a desk together.

“What were you and Scorpius talking about before?” said Albus. He couldn’t help himself.

“You,” said Rose as if they were talking about the weather.

“ _Me?_ ”

Rose nodded. She looked out of the window, where the Great Lake could be seen from a distance.

Frustrated, Albus nudged her. “Care to elaborate?”

Rose didn’t reply immediately. A group of Ravenclaws entered the classroom. They giggled when they saw Albus. Obviously, they too, heard about what happened in Potions. Rose watched the Ravenclaws pull some tables together so they could sit near each other.

“It’s not really my place to tell.”

“You two have _secrets?_ I didn’t even think you were friends, to be honest.”

Rose shrugged. “Stranger things have happened.”

Albus screwed up his nose. “He’s telling you things he’s not telling me? _About me?_ ”

“It’s nothing bad.”

Albus frowned. “Then what’s the problem?”

“The problem is that you’re both idiots.”

Albus turned away from Rose, realising he wasn’t going to get an answer out of her. “Fine. I don’t even care anyway.”

Which was a complete lie, but if she wasn’t going to talk, then there was no way he could make her.

He stared straight ahead, gripping his quill in a fist.

Rose however, seemed to take pity on him.

“Albus… he’s making it _really, really_ obvious, and if you’re not getting the signals that’s your problem, not mine,” Rose sighed.

“What signals,” grunted Albus, though inwardly, he was pleased to get something out of her.

Rose bit her lower lip and Albus knew she was tossing up about confessing or not.

“I would say you should just talk to him about it, but he’s just the same as you anyway.”

“How so?”

Rose shrugged. “You both keep everything inside.”

“I _used_ to,” he corrected. “I’m an open book these days.”

“Then I don’t know if Scorpius has learned that lesson yet.”

“Scorpius is the most open person I know.”

But even as he said that, he knew that wasn’t true. Scorpius spent most of his life pretending not to be bothered about the rumours that he was evil, that he was a product of Darkness. It was something that had always hurt him, but something he had never spoken about except for once in a fit of anger and loneliness.

Was there something similar going on that Albus wasn’t aware of? Something that was eating Scorpius up from the inside out?

He looked at Rose seriously. “Just tell me one thing. Should I be worried?”

“Worried? Not at all.”

Albus frowned. What then, could it be?

Albus turned away from Rose, preoccupied with his thoughts, trying to put the pieces together.

“I’ll try to talk to him then. After class.”

“Good idea,” said Rose.

The classroom door opened, and Professor Babbling entered. She was as prompt as always, already encouraging them to take out their Runic Dictionaries and get to work on translating the words in their workbooks.

When Albus did so, he found it was hard to focus on the words on the page. His mind was swimming with thoughts of Scorpius and what he would say when Albus confronted him.

As they were translating the runes, Albus kept prompting Rose for answers at unexpected moments, as if he could surprise her into telling him what she knew. He could tell that Rose was growing more and more frustrated with him, but he hadn’t expected her to be so frustrated as to hex him with a mouth-clamping charm in the middle of speaking.

“ _Miss Granger-Weasley!”_ exclaimed Professor Babbling as soon as she noticed. She quickly waved her wand and the hex was lifted off Albus. “Ten points from Gryffindor!”

“He’s my cousin. I’m allowed to hex him,” said Rose as diplomatic as the Minister of Magic.

There were a few giggles from around the classroom.

Professor Babbling sniffed. “Another ten points for talking back! And on the first day of class, too! Do I need to separate you two?”

She looked at Albus for answers.

“No, Professor. It’s fine. I was the one bothering her anyway,” he said.

Professor Babbling nodded, gave a pointed glare to Rose, then went to help a student who was struggling with question twelve.

“You know what,” said Albus. “You may have gotten your mum’s brains, but your attitude is entirely your dad’s.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Albus snorted. He reached over to turn the page of his dictionary and managed to knock Rose’s inkwell all over her parchment. Rose started yelling at him, Albus insisted it was an accident (it wasn’t), and Professor Babbling _did_ separate them, in the end.

At least Rose distracted Albus from thoughts of Scorpius for the moment. He opened his dictionary to look up the translation for one of the sentences that Professor Babbling prescribed.

* * *

At the end of the class, Albus walked as quickly as he could towards Hagrid’s Hut. He had arrived just in time to watch Scorpius return a bowtruckle to its tree.

Scorpius waved goodbye to Hagrid, then turned and made his way up the cobblestone path, pausing when he saw Albus there.

A small smiled graced his features. “Everything alright?”

“Fine,” said Albus, meeting him. Then he paused, shaking his head. “Actually, maybe not alright. Rose told me to talk to you.”

“R-Rose told you to speak to me? What did she say?” asked Scorpius.

“Nothing. It’s just… well, I saw you two together. I heard what you were talking about…”

Scorpius stopped in the middle of the path. He didn’t look at Albus. “You heard what we were talking about,” he repeated.

“I didn’t hear the whole thing,” said Albus. “I just heard that you were talking about me. And that Rose was going to stop anyone who got in your way. And I didn’t even know you were even _friends_ with Rose. So I asked Rose what was going on because we have Ancient Runes together and she said something that made me think that… that you weren’t happy, so I asked her whether I should be worried or not, and she said no. So, then I started thinking what it could have been that there’s something that you would tell her but not _me_. And then there was the whole thing in Potions which was the only thing I could think of that would have made you feel upset so I wanted to ap-“

“Stop, you don’t have to apologise about that. Seriously. There’s nothing wrong.”

“I don’t know if I believe that. Because there’s obviously _something._ And if it’s about me, then I’d like to know what it is. And I know it’s not about Rose either, because I know you were lying about asking her out.”

Scorpius rubbed the back of his neck. He continued walking and Albus followed him towards the castle.

“Well?” prompted Albus.

“I can’t explain it. Can we just forget about it? If it puts your mind at ease, you didn’t hurt my feelings, I still like you. We’re still best friends and you haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Then what-“

“It’s me, honestly. I think I like you _too_ much.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” Albus frowned.

“Not if you don’t want it to be,” said Scorpius.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I really don’t know how I can make it any clearer.”

“Rose said something like that too,” said Albus glumly. “I’m starting to think you’re both just making fun of me.”

“Trust me, nothing about this is fun.”

“Then is it bad or is it good?”

“It’s just frustrating.”

“Can’t you just tell me?”

“I already did.”

Albus groaned. “I must be really stupid or something.”

Scorpius didn’t confirm or deny. He did pat Albus’s head consolingly though.

“So, you don’t hate my guts?”

“The exact opposite,” said Scorpius. “Anyway, do you want to help me practise?”

Albus rolled his eyes, slightly annoyed with himself and with Scorpius that he couldn't get a straight answer from him. He decided not to dwell on it though, and it wasn't like he was angry. He just wanted to know what was going on.

“Sure? Charms?”

“No, Quidditch. Trials are in two weeks.”

“Oh! Sure. I don’t know how much help I’d be though.”

“Just come and watch.”

They walked together to the Slytherin dorms so Scorpius could change into his Quidditch robes and grab his broom, then made their way to the Quidditch pitch. A lump arose in his throat as they approached, recalling the dark night when Delphi had brought them here, when she directed her wand at Craig. He felt as if it was wrong to be here, when he could still see so vividly in his mind Craig Bowker lifeless by the goalposts.

"I don't know if I can be here," said Albus quietly.

Scorpius stopped. He looked troubled, too, a crease in his brow, his lips set. "There's a memorial for him, over here. I saw it last year."

Albus looked to the direction he was indicating to. By the stands, a wooden cross was set up, flowers, wreaths and bluebell flames lined the area. Even now, there were people standing beside it, leaving white roses, or a card. The lump in Albus's throat hadn't lessened.

"I didn't even know," he said.

"I didn't know whether I could return here, either. I've had nightmares about that night," said Scorpius. "I think coming here will always remind me of him, just like how my home always reminds me of my mum. It's because of that that I know it's no good trying to avoid places that remind you of terrible things, because it'll always follow you around, in the end."

Albus was silent, staring at Scorpius. His dad had said something similar too. When Albus asked him how he could go back to the places where he'd seen countless deaths - Hogwarts, in particular, and still claim that he loved it so. He said that it was his way of acknowledging the past. That avoiding a place, trying to forget about a place, was a disservice to the fallen. Albus thought he could understand that. He didn't want Craig's memory to be forgotten.

Albus looked out into the field. There were a few students practising. A Hufflepuff was trying to pass a Quaffle through a hoop that an older Slytherin student was guarding. Maybe some of them were Craig's friend. Maybe some of them had seen him in passing. Albus turned back to Scorpius and nodded.

"You're right," said Albus. "I think Delphi would love the idea of me not being able to return here, too. I won't let her have that satisfaction.

Scorpius smiled. He looked like he didn't know whether to cry or hug Albus. He held Albus's gaze, letting him know that it was okay for Albus to be upset. That he didn't have to stay here if he didn't want to - if it was too much. Albus wanted to stay though. He wanted to see Scorpius fly, he wanted to respect Craig's memory. He wanted to do this - for himself, most of all

They entered the pitch in a solemn silence. Albus spotted Adrien la Havas, the formidable fifth year captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team. Albus thought Scorpius would be nervous, knowing that he was here. Looking at Scorpius with determination, Albus said some encouraging words.

Scorpius clasped Albus on the shoulder, and mounted his broom.

“Have fun out there,” said Albus. He made his way to the stands.

He recognised one of the girls from the train there, Eva. The one who had been at the second-hand shop when he, Harry and Lily went to Diagon Alley. She had a scroll of parchment unravelled on her lap, an open textbook underneath to lean on. He timidly made his way over to her.

She looked up when he approached, waving. “Hi, come sit.”

Albus, grateful that she didn’t pretend to not remember him, did so.

“Hi,” he said.

“How’s that girl’s cat?” asked Eva.

“Oh. It’s probably fine. I wouldn’t know.”

As he said that, he felt bad for not asking Polly when they were in the same class before.

“Didn’t take you as much of a Quidditch fan,” she said.

“Oh. I’m not really. I’m just here to watch Scorpius.”

He looked onto the field, where he spotted a silver and green figure hovering in the air.

“Scorpius?” she tore her eyes away from her spell book to look at Scorpius’s green and silver figure in the air.

“Yeah.” said Albus.

“Is he trying to make it onto the team?”

He nodded.

“His dad was a Seeker right?”

“Yeah. Scorpius is trying out for Chaser, though.”

“Well, let’s hope he’s good then. I’ve heard that Slytherin can be brutal at try-outs.”

“Do you think so?”

“I know so.”

“You’re not in Slytherin though.”

“I’m not. I’m in Ravenclaw. Adrien is my younger brother.”

“Your brother is Adrien la Havas?”

“The one and only.”

Albus didn’t even know Adrien _had_ siblings.

“I feel like I should be bowing to you or something. All the Slytherins treat Adrien like a god.”

Eva laughed. “Please don’t. He likes to pretend I don’t exist.”

Albus frowned. “What? Why?”

“That’s just how younger brothers are, I think.”

“I’m not like that,” he said. As a younger brother, he was rather insulted.

“I’m in the same year level as James, you know. You are exactly like that.”

Albus frowned. It was true that in the past he had done his utmost to avoid James whenever he had seen him in the halls. People always compared the two – James, decent at his studies and excellent at Quidditch. Popular and funny. Albus, quiet and downtrodden. Terrible with a wand and awful on a broom. It was something that drove Albus mental. But wasn’t he different now? He didn’t close himself _off_ to James anymore… but they weren’t much closer than they were before.

“Oh,” he said simply, not sure what to make of this sudden revelation.

“OI!” called out a voice from the field, distracting him. “ _Are you even watching?”_

Albus looked out to the field to see Scorpius mid-air on his broom, waving at him.

Albus jumped up and made an exaggerated show of cheering for him. “WOO! Go Scorpius!”

Scorpius made a rude hand gesture, but Albus could hear him laughing all the way from the stands. Albus sat back down.

“Where is your brother, anyway?” asked Eva. “He’s usually on the field no matter what.”

Albus shrugged. “I don’t know. First day of seventh year… He’s probably just busy.”

“Maybe,” shrugged Eva, looking down at her own books.

Albus watched Scorpius, who managed to skirmish with the Hufflepuff who had been shooting goals. He dodged and wove past the Hufflepuff like he’d been playing his entire life.

“Do you think he’s good enough to make it on to the team?” asked Albus.

“Scorpius?” said Eva. She brushed her fringe out of her eyes to look closer at him. After a few moments of watching, she replied. “He’s holding up well against Aly. The Hufflepuff.”

Albus nodded.

“Would he be gutted if he didn’t make the team?” asked Eva.

“I think he’d be disappointed. But he wouldn’t let it eat him up.”

Scorpius practised for a quarter of an hour. He eventually landed and made his way up to the stands where Albus and Eva were sitting.

He nodded in Eva’s direction, then sat down next to Albus. His hair was windswept, his cheeks tinged pink from the effort and exertion he had made.

“All done?” asked Albus.

“Let me catch my breath,” panted Scorpius.

“You did well out there,” said Eva.

“Really? Thanks.”

“Her brother is Adrien,” said Albus.

Scorpius whipped his head around to look at Eva. “No way. Did you come here to watch him?”

Eva nodded. “I like to go over my notes here, too, when the weather is nice.”

The sky was grey, but Albus could see what she meant. The trees of the Forbidden Forest were hidden in the mist and created an atmosphere that expected you to wrap yourself up in a warm blanket, and sit in the Common Room near the fire with a cup of tea sneaked out from the kitchens. At the thought of the kitchens, Albus’s stomach rumbled.

“Let’s get dinner,” said Scorpius. “I’m hungry. I bet you are too, since you slept through lunch.”

“You would be right. How cruel of you, making me stay here while I was dying of starvation.”

“We should have gotten something from the kitchens before we came,” said Scorpius.

Albus stood up, turning towards Eva. “You coming?”

“No, I’ll head back later.”

“See you,” said Albus.

Scorpius and Albus went straight to the Great Hall, where dinner had already commenced. They sat down at the Slytherin table.

“Hey, Malfoy!”

Albus and Scorpius looked over to see Karl Jenkins from the Ravenclaw table jeering at Scorpius.

“Potter fancies you a bit, doesn’t he!” he squawked.

Albus shouted back, “Why do you care? Jealous no one thinks you’re attractive?”

A few people from the Slytherin table _oohed_ as if Albus’s comeback was the best they ever heard. Really though, he struggled to hide the flush that crept up his neck. He told himself it was because it was the first time he’d ever defended himself. Usually he would have ignored it and let the comments bother him. But it wasn’t fair that he was targeting Scorpius for something that was Albus’s fault. He glanced over at Scorpius, whose ears were red, too. He guessed it was more embarrassing for Scorpius than it was for Albus. He was always too humble about his looks.

At least Karl turned back around to his food.

“Cheer up,” said Albus, “At least if you get onto the Quidditch team, you’ll be able to beat Jenkins’ arse.”

“That’s _if_ I get onto the team,” said Scorpius. “And then I’d be up against Rose _and_ James when we verse Gryffindor. I’ve probably got no chance, unless I somehow have some amazing stroke of luck.”

“Don’t worry. If Adrien sees your potential, then he’ll see it. And if he doesn’t then he probably needs glasses.”

Scorpius laughed and was about to reply before he was interrupted.

“What’s this?” called out Francis Bulstrode, who was sitting a small distance away from them, on the other side of the table. “Scorpius Malfoy is trying out for Quidditch?”

A few heads turned their way. Even some from the neighbouring houses, thanks to Francis’s booming voice.

“I mean… I’ve been practising,” said Scorpius in a small voice.

“Well, if you’re anything like your dad, then I think you’d be just fine on our team,” he said.

“Do you think so?” said Scorpius hopefully.

Francis nodded.

Scorpius leaned over and whispered frantically into Albus’s ear. “ _I don’t think I’m anything like my dad, though._ ”

Albus patted Scorpius on the back. “Don’t panic. You haven’t even tried out yet.”

Scorpius let out a breath of air, though Albus could tell he was still nervous.

* * *

The next two weeks passed as fast as a flap of a fairy’s wings. Albus was performing better in his classes than he ever had before, he watched Scorpius practise every chance he could get, and they also managed to form a study group with Polly, who had somehow warmed up to the both of them, which Albus never thought possible.

It was the day before try-outs, and Albus, Scorpius and Polly were in the library. Albus had been curious all this time why she was never hanging out with her usual friend group anymore, but hadn’t had the courage to ask. Though they had became tentative friends, she still had an extremely sharp tongue.

She didn’t seem to be too upset, though. It appeared that Albus was right in deciding to bring her into their circle. He knew she wouldn’t have been able to cope well if she was entirely on her own. Though it seemed that today was different. She came to the library where Albus and Scorpius were sitting with their various spell books opened around them.

She greeted them and sat down.

Albus didn’t pay much attention to her then, because he was practising a spell for transfiguration that involved a lot of complicated wand work.

Scorpius though, had noticed.

“Is everything alright, Polly?” whispered Scorpius. Madam Pince was standing nearby.

Albus tore his eyes away from the spell book, immediately recognising why Albus had asked. She looked like she made an effort in looking like her normal self, but that effort didn’t extend to her expression. Her mouth downturned, brows knitted, eyes red.

“No,” she said plainly. Albus was surprised at how easily she said it.

“Is it because of your friends?” said Scorpius.

“They’re not my friends anymore,” she snapped.

“What happened?” said Scorpius.

“They threw my clothes in the Great Lake.”

Albus frowned. “What? Why would they do that?”

“I’m a ‘backstabbing cow,’ apparently.”

Albus was shocked. “They called you that?”

“Emma Skeeter did.”

"Skeeter?" asked Albus.

"Of course. Rita Skeeter's _favourite_ niece. Her only shortcoming is that she's in Gryffindor," Polly snorted.

“Why would she call you something like that?" asked Scorpius.

“Well, lets see,” she huffed, holding up her hand and counting down with every point she made. “I didn’t go to her party during the summer because I had other plans. Vicky Brennan didn’t go either, who she has a crush on. I ended up seeing Vicky at St. Mungo’s, and somehow Emma heard about this before school started, totally twisted the story around and spread some nasty rumour about me that now all of Gryffindor knows. Now they think something’s going on because I’m hanging out with you two now.”

Albus stared at Polly, wide-eyed. “And you tried explaining this to them?”

“Of course I did! They all believe Emma, though,” she said.

“What about Vicky? Did he say anything?”

“ _Vicky!_ He said he didn’t even know who Emma was! Of course, that just made her all the more mad.”

“What do they think is happening now? With us?” asked Scorpius.

“Do you know what the rumour about me is?” said Polly.

They both shook their heads.

“They said that I’m some kind of floozy. That I go around trying to flirt with other people. Now of course it’s worse because I’m hanging out with you two!”

Madam Pince shushed them, and as expected, she was ignored.

“Why is it worse?” asked Albus a little insulted.

“Albus Potter and Scorpius Malfoy! You two are the most interesting people in our whole year! Maybe in the whole school! I mean, you helped to arrest that delusional Delphi girl, you’re always together and everyone watches you from the sidelines. It doesn’t help that this year you’re surer of yourselves and all the girls like you and think I’m stringing the both of you along!”

It always surprised Albus when people brought up Delphi. They would never know the whole story though, with the time-turner and everything else. All they knew was that Albus and Scorpius had been there when Craig died and they had managed to defeat her. It was for that reason alone, that Albus and Scorpius weren't shunned. To everyone else, they had avenged Craig's death. It was hard for Albus to see it that way, though.

“You’re not stringing us along,” said Albus, trying not to think about it. “We invited you to sit at our desk in Potions in the first place.”

“All the girls like us?” said Scorpius, bewildered.

“Not _me,_ obviously. And I think I heard some boys talking about you, too, but that’s not the point!” she huffed. “ _Anyway_ , they want me to apologise, but I’ve done nothing wrong. I don’t even think I would accept an apology from them even if they realised they were all mistaken. I suppose that’s what I get by hanging out with a Skeeter.”

“I can’t believe they would throw your things in the lake, though. Isn’t that going too far?” said Scorpius.

“Not for Emma.”

“Did you get them out?”

“The Giant Squid did,” said Polly, rolling her eyes. “At least something is taking pity on me.”

A thought struck Albus. “Rose is in your year level too, though. Isn’t she at least being nice?”

“Rose sticks to herself mainly. She did give them detention, though.”

“Well, maybe you’d want to try talking to her? She’s nice when she wants to be, and she’s not the kind of person who would believe rumours anyway.”

“Well, she’s a bit… intimidating, isn’t she?”

“I guess… but you are too,” said Albus. “I can talk to her if you want me to.”

Polly shook her head. He could tell she was pleased by being called intimidating. “No, I’ll talk to her myself. Gryffindor, the house of bravery and courage and all that.”

Albus nodded. He felt bad for Polly. He had assumed that there had been a falling out with her friends, but he thought it had been because of something Polly did, not because there was someone as nasty as Emma.

During the time that they had gotten to know each other, he had gotten used to snarkiness and found that her dry wit was funny but harmless. It was hard to believe he had ever been hurt by Polly’s words.

Polly opened up her spell book, which let Albus know that even though she was surely still upset about what happened, she was feeling better enough to focus on her Charms book.

* * *

The next day, Sunday, was try-outs for the Slytherin Quidditch team. Scorpius woke Albus up before the sun had even risen, all in a panic.

“Merlin help me,” groaned Albus, turning around on his bed so he didn’t have to look at the bright light of Scorpius’s illuminated wand tip.

“Albus, _please._ Let’s just go to the Quidditch field and I’ll just do some laps and then we can go and have breakfast and I _promise_ you can go back to sleep after that.”

“I don’t even think we’re allowed to be out this early,” whined Albus “We’ll get detention.”

“It’s fine if it’s the weekend,” said Scorpius, grabbing onto Albus’s wrist and trying to haul him up. Albus just slumped back onto the mattress. “ _Come on,_ before you wake everyone up.”

“We’re already awake, you gits,” said Francis Bulstrode, gruff voice coming from the bed opposite Albus’s. “Go back to sleep, Malfoy, or you’ll mess up your try-outs.”

“Would I?” said Scorpius, aghast.

“Yes. I’ve seen it. People wake up at dawn, thinking it’s the best idea they’ve ever had. Time for tryouts and they can’t remember their left or rights, or their Wronski Feints from their Porskoff Ploys.”

“Okay, okay,” said Scorpius, he let go of Albus’s wrist and went back to his own bed. “I don’t even think I’ll be able to sleep.”

“Then meditate, be quiet, read a book. Don’t bother the rest of us,” said Francis.

“Alright, fine,” said Scorpius. Albus heard his blankets rustle, Scorpius had returned to his bed.

Scorpius woke Albus again at a more appropriate time. As they made their way out of the Slytherin Common Rooms, a few people wished Scorpius good luck on his try outs.

He didn’t seem so nervous, but by the way he was rambling on about his eggs and toast and baked beans, Albus knew for certain that he was.

He went silent when Adrien la Havas stopped near him.

“Looking forward to seeing you on the pitch, Malfoy,”

Scorpius choked on his toast. “Um – thank you. Me too.”

La Havas clapped him on the back and left the Great Hall.

“Merlin, I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Scorpius, I really don’t know what to tell you.”

“I’m going to mess it all up, I just know.”

“Do you?”

“What?”

“Do you know? Because I remember a boy last year who really did mess everything up, and his best friend who put everything right again. If you can do that, I think Quidditch should be no problem.”

Scorpius swallowed, staring at Albus. “I - … it’s not the same.”

“Yeah. Travelling through time was harder.”

“Okay. Yeah. You’re right. All I needed was some perspective.”

Albus nodded. “Exactly.”

They both finished their breakfast (after Scorpius decided he couldn’t eat anymore and gave the rest to Albus) and made their way to the Quidditch pitch.

“Don’t worry. Show them what you can do,” said Albus. “And if something goes wrong-“

“Don’t say that.”

“ _If_ something goes wrong, then it’ll be fine. No one will think any differently of you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Besides, your dad may have been a Seeker, but you’re an only child and you have what? One cousin who is already working in the Ministry? Try being the only person in your whole extended family who can’t even fly a broom. Well, maybe except Hermione, but I’m not even really related to her.”

“You know, I used to hate it when you compare yourself against your family, but that really is motivational! Thanks!”

“Glad I could help,” said Albus at his own chagrin.

Scorpius went down to the field, Albus, up to the stands. There were a few other Slytherins hanging around, mostly the members of the Quidditch team that we’re already confirmed on the team, Bulstrode amongst them.

“Hey, Al!”

Albus looked over and sure enough, Rose Granger-Weasley was walking up the steps to sit next to Albus. Even more surprising, was that she was walking with Polly Chapman.

“Oh, surely _you’re_ not allowed to be here! You’re _on_ the Gryffindor team!” complained Albus.

Rose shrugged and sat down next to him, Polly next to her.

“Quidditch seems a bit up in the air, these days,” said Rose

Albus laughed, then realised she wasn’t making a pun. “Wait, what do you mean?”

“James has quit Quidditch. He’s given up his captaincy. We just heard the news this morning,” said Rose

Albus blinked. “What?”

“I don’t know either. He said he’s just not interested in it anymore.”

Albus spluttered. “But he _loves_ Quidditch. It’s his life! He didn’t say anything during the summer about it. He must have been cursed or something.”

“Seriously, we had him checked,” said Rose. “It’s entirely his own decision. He won’t say why, and he doesn’t seem any happier for it, either. Which isn’t great, because now we don’t have a captain, and I don’t know when McGonagall will appoint one for us.”

“Surely it would be soon. She wouldn’t let Gryffindor go without a captain. Maybe it’ll be you, Rose,” said Polly.

Rose smiled. “I don’t know. Prefect and Quidditch captain seems like a bit too much power, honestly.”

“Well, it had better be soon, otherwise try-outs won’t go on.”

“You should try and talk to him,” said Rose. “Maybe you can figure out what’s going on.”

Albus looked at her. “Can’t Lily- “

“She’s already tried.”

“If Lily can’t make him talk then what makes you think I can?”

Rose shrugged. “I’m worried about him. He hasn’t been himself since school started.”

Albus frowned. “Alright, I guess I could try. I never know where to find him, though.”

“I’ll get him for you, after Scorpius finishes his try-outs, of course.”

“Alright,” said Albus.

He wondered what was going on with James… he hadn’t seen him on the pitch at all since the semester started, and whenever he had seen brief glimpses of him between classes, it didn’t look like anything was wrong.

Albus looked to the pitch, putting the thought to the back of his mind. He would speak to James later, but right now, his focus had to be on Scorpius, who was patiently waiting to be called out. Albus watched a familiar Slytherin girl audition for Seeker and managed to get the Snitch in under a minute. The line shortened, then it was Scorpius’s turn.

“You’d be trying out for Chaser?” asked la Havas.

“Yes,” said Scorpius.

La Havas wrote something down on a bit of parchment. “All right, let’s see how you go.”

Having watched all the Slytherins before him, Scorpius wasn’t surprised by Adrien’s take-off and they were neck and neck. La Havas was the star Chaser of the Slytherin team, and his method of seeing whether someone was good enough for the team was to make them verse _him_. He threw the Quaffle in the air.

Scorpius caught it quickly, dodging Bludgers and Slytherins who were positioned to distract Scorpius. He wove through them, managed to score a goal through the middle hoop. He snatched the Quaffle out of la Havas’s fingers, but dropped the Quaffle when a Bludger flew a little too close to his broom, and another Slytherin swooped it out from under him. Luckily though, he managed to reclaim the Quaffle and shot it through the left hoop.

Albus watched him play, more serious than he had had ever been during practise. He found he couldn’t even take his eyes off him.

Eventually though, after a few mishaps and excellent plays, Scorpius made it to the ground, breathing heavily.

“Good job, Malfoy,” said la Havas.

Scorpius nodded, and went to the sidelines to wait with the other Slytherin hopefuls.

A few more people auditioned. Some were good, some, very terrible, even if they gave it their best shot. Eventually, the try-outs finished, and la Havas was left to make his decision.

“Now,” said la Havas. “We’ve had a pretty good turn-out this year, but only the best players can make it onto the team. Scorpius Malfoy and Phoebe Greenwood, you’ll be Chaser-“

“Yes!” shouted Albus from the stands. Scorpius turned around, a grin on his face.

“Sanna, you’ll be our new Seeker. Our reserves will be Simon Purvience for the positions of Chaser and Beater, Daniel Goldstein for Keeper and Alice Flint for Seeker and Chaser.”

The people who were rejected from the team made a fuss about it to la Havas, and Albus went down to the field, grabbing Scorpius.

“You did it!” he said.

Scorpius grinned. “I can’t believe it. I have to write to dad. He’ll be so proud.”

“I bet he would,” said Albus.

Scorpius thanked la Havas, then saw that Rose and Polly were standing nearby too. “You came to see me try out?”

“ _I_ came to see the competition,” said Rose. “Good job, though. You were pretty good out there.”

“Might not _be_ any competition if you don’t have a team, though,” put in Polly.

“What do you mean?” asked Scorpius.

“James quit Quidditch,” said Albus.

“He _what_?” said Scorpius.

“Did I hear that correctly?” said Adrien who was walking past. “James Potter quit Quidditch?”

Albus nodded. “I don’t know why.”

“But what about the Gryffindor team?” asked Scorpius.

Rose explained to Scorpius everything she had explained to Albus.

La Havas looked glum. “But Gryffindor is so fun to beat. He put his whole team in jeopardy. That’s pretty selfish. I wouldn’t have expected that of him.”

“I’m going to talk to him,” said Albus. “I’ll figure it out.”

Scorpius nodded.

La Havas looked at him seriously. “You better convince him.”

“I thought you would have been glad to get rid of him,” said Rose.

“ _Glad_? Of course not. James is a bloody talented Quidditch player.”

Rose made a small noise of appreciation. “Well, lets go find him,” she said to Albus. “Congrats on making the team, Scorpius.”

“Thanks,” he said.

Albus and Rose left the Quidditch field, making their way to the Gryffindor Tower.


	8. Uncertainties of the Future

“So, you really didn’t know anything?” asked Rose as they walked through winding corridors and countless moving stairs to the Gryffindor common room, where apparently, James hadn’t moved since the morning, hounded by hordes of Gryffindors who wouldn’t accept that James Potter had given up his captaincy.

“I didn’t. I’m just as shocked as you are,” said Albus.

“I hope you can talk some sense into him then.” Rose stopped at the painting of the Fat Lady. “You’ll have to wait outside,” she said.

Albus nodded and Rose said the password. The Fat Lady’s portrait swung open, and inside the Gyffindor common room was a ruckus of noise and shouting. Albus caught a few strands of conversation.

“Someone’s gotta get McGongall and tell him to pull his head in,”

A few people were chanting “ _Potter, Potter!”_ Albus wasn’t sure if that was a show of support or some way to annoy him.

“We’re bound to lose the Quidditch cup without him,” said another.

They noticed Rose enter, and Albus standing by the door.

“Let him in, Rose!” said a Gryffindor.

“But the rules-“

“Since when have you cared about the rules,” snorted Lily Potter. She approached and grabbed Albus by the wrist, pulling him into Gryffindor Common Room.

“A Slytherin in the Gryffindor common room! The outrage!” said the Fat Lady shrilly.

“It’s an emergency!” said Lily, pushing the Fat Lady shut. Albus could hear the shrieks of the portrait from the other side of the wall.

“Finally! You took ages!”

“I was watching Scorpius at try-outs. He got into the team!”

“Sorry if I find that hard to celebrate at the moment,” said Lily, rolling her eyes. “Considering we might not even _have_ a team.”

“Right, sorry,” he said. Albus looked around. It was warm, the red and gold walls making it feel cozy, yet ready for a fight at the same time. 

“Well, did anyone manage to get anything else out of him before we got here?” asked Rose.

Lily shook her head. “Nothing, except all the seventh year boys are annoyed because he won’t let them in.”

A few grumbles erupted from the corner. Albus thought he might have heard one of them call James something not so nice, but he pretended not to hear it. Lily however, glared at him.

“You should go up. He’ll probably let you in,” said Lily.

Albus nodded, though he wasn’t sure if that was true. He turned away from Lily and Rose and went up the winding staircase to the dorm rooms. When he reached the appropriately labelled door, he knocked.

“It’s Albus,” he said.

It was silent for several seconds, then:

“How’d you get in?” came James’s voice, sounding grouchy.

“I fell in,” said Albus sarcastically. “Are you going to open the door, or should I just leave.”

Albus heard the groaning of a bed frame. The door swung open and there James stood, still in his pyjamas. Orange flannel trousers and one of their grans knitted jumpers. His cheeks were red, and his hair was more of a mess than usual.

“Let’s go for a walk,” said Albus.

“I don’t wanna get changed.”

“Well, I don’t want to be in the Gryffindor common room.”

James sighed, though he must have seen the appeal in Albus’s request, because he opened his trunk and unfolded a pair of jeans and a grey hooded jumper. A moment later, they had descended the stairs.

“We’re just going for a walk,” said Albus, to all the Gryffindors staring at them. It was more so for James’s benefit, so he didn’t have to explain himself.

Rose nodded in his direction as they left, like she approved of his actions even though Albus himself didn’t have a plan and no idea how he was even going get James to rejoin the team. He just knew he didn’t want to talk to James in the Gryffindor common room, where he had no doubt that the pressure from the Gryffindors were what made him retreat to the dorms in the first place.

“Well, I do hope you manage to convince him,” said the Fat Lady snottily.

Albus ignored her and started to make his way down the steps.

“Are you?” asked James.

Albus paused, facing James only to realise that he had stopped at the painting of the Fat Lady.

“Am I what?”

“Going to convince me to join the team. Because I’m not.”

Albus shrugged. “Should I just go back to my common room and you can just say that I didn’t change your mind?”

James was silent. Albus looked at him. He didn’t have his usual cheeky grin on his face – and now that Albus thought about it, he wasn’t sure he’d seen it in a while. Not when he passed him in the corridors, nor when he watched him in the Great Hall… He always looked bright. Always looked like someone who could cheer up anybody with just a single word or a funny look… now though, Albus couldn’t see any of that shine through him.

James’s shoulders drooped, his brows had a constant crease between them, his jaw was set. Albus had seen this look before, not on James, but in a mirror, when he let is insecurities get the better of him. This, however, wasn’t a James Albus _knew_.

He could guess, though, that whatever had happened went deeper than just not wanting to play Quidditch anymore.

“Have you had lunch yet?” Albus asked.

“No,” said James.

Albus nodded and changed their direction to the Great Hall.

There was an awkward silence between them as they walked. Albus had never really been with his brother since they were little and got along better – before Albus went to Hogwarts and let his self-consciousness eat him up. He had never felt negatively towards James, but now they were standing side by side, Albus felt like there was a wall between them that he never even knew existed.

They made it to the Great Hall. Albus scanned the tables and saw Scorpius eating at the Slytherin table, Polly sitting next to him, talking amicably. Neither noticed him enter.

Albus bit the inside of his cheek, and decided to walk to the Gryffindor table, but as he did so, James grabbed him. “Let’s sit at your table. I don’t think my house is pleased with me at the moment.”

Surprised, Albus nodded. Scorpius and Polly noticed them as they approached.

“To what do we owe the pleasure of both Potter brothers gracing us at the Slytherin table?” said Scorpius dramatically.

Albus was glad that he didn’t show any concern or worry for James, though no doubt that was what was going through all of their minds at the moment. Albus didn’t think James would take too kindly to concern or worry, which was probably why he had locked himself away in his dorms in the first place – and it would have been much worse with the entire Gryffindor cohort down his back.

Albus glanced at Polly, wondering if she too would hold any ill-will towards his brother.

She just stared at him as he sat down though, as if she couldn’t believe that _James Sirius Potter_ was even near her, which Albus couldn’t help but feel a little bothered about, because why would she be starstruck in front of James, but not _him._

“It feels weird being here,” said James. He snatched a couple of pumpkin pasties and bit at one. At least he still had his appetite. Albus would have sent an owl to his parents if he didn’t.

“On the Slytherin table?” said Polly. “I _know_ ,”

She twirled a blonde ringlet around her finger. Albus stared at her, feeling like he might vomit.

“Oh, you’re in Gryffindor too,” said James, surprised. “Why are you here?”

“Albus and Scorpius are my friends,” said Polly, though this time she looked a bit disappointed that James hadn’t recognised her from being in the same house. At the same time, Albus hadn’t expected Polly to say they were _friends_ and his earlier disgust mingled with something akin to fondness.

“I didn’t think these two let anyone else into their corner of the world,” said James.

“Got lucky, I suppose,” said Polly.

“You’re in Quidditch robes?” said James suddenly, looking at Scorpius.

“Yeah. I made it onto the Slytherin team,” said Scorpius, trying to not to let his obvious happiness show through.

James made a small noise. “Shouldn’t you be practising right now?”

“Adrien’s letting us eat before we do,” said Scorpius, he indicated with his head to where Adrien was sitting, also in his Quidditch robes.

“Oh,” said James.

“About Quidditch –“started Polly.

“I don’t really think Quidditch is what James wants to hear about right now,” muttered Scorpius.

James’ brows knitted. “You already know?”

“Rose came to the Quidditch field to tell me,” said Albus. “To convince you. And I had to explain things to Scorpius, but Adrien was walking past and heard us, so he knows you’re out of the team too.”

James closed his eyes and sighed. “Anyone else?”

“I don’t know if he’s told anyone else,” said Scorpius.

“He did say that he thinks you’re a great player though. He thinks it’s a waste of your talent that you quit,” said Albus.

James was silent. He set his pumpkin pasty back down.

“It’s a friendly rivalry,” said Scorpius.

James, who had been pleasant enough up until this point, said with no small amount of frustration and annoyance: “I’m still not going to re-join.”

“Who’ll be Gryffindor’s captain then?” Albus asked, not sure if he should be pressing it further.

James shrugged. “Whoever McGonagall thinks is best.”

“Well, shouldn’t you have a say in it too? You should be able to recommend people. You’re the one who knows your team the best,” said Albus.

“I don’t care who gets it.”

Albus stared at him, realising that this gentle, fragile approach was getting him nowhere. James reacted to action, he was never this passive, never this blasé. Albus stood up, the bench skidding back as he did so. He narrowed his eyes at James. “Get up.“

“What?” said James, eyes wide. Albus grabbed his arm and hauled him up, dragging him away from his pumpkin pasties, away from the tables, and away from the Great Hall.

“Al-! Albus. You arse, get off me!”

Albus paid him no mind and dragged him through what felt like a billion different staircases, heading up to the fifth floor. He let go of him eventually, once he was sure that he wouldn’t be beat up by his brother.

“You’re stronger than you look,” grumbled James, shaking his wrist.

“And you’re some kind of idiot,” said Albus.

“What on earth did I do to make you so angry?”

“Be stupid,” grumbled Albus.

Albus made sure there were no other students along the corridor, then started pacing back and forth along the corridor.

James stared at him like he was crazy. “What are you doing, you weirdo- Wait – is this - ? You found it?”

As Albus expected, a large, wrought-iron door appeared in the wall. “I did,” said Albus. 

“But nobody’s been able to find it since the war-“

“Since after the war,” Albus corrected. “Once everyone else discovered where it was and it moved. I found it last year, after everything happened.”

Albus pushed open the door. James’ earlier mood had disappeared and now he was the very image of shock and awe. His eyes were wide, staring at Albus. Once Albus looked inside the room, though, he knew that expression would disappear in an instant.

Inside, the Room of Requirement was decorated in various Quidditch decorations, a few books, a bed and a crackling fireplace. It looked like James’s bedroom at home.

James stepped inside, and as he expected, his face fell, and he looked guarded.

“What kind of room did you ask for?” said James, his mouth a flat line. He wandered around – bypassing the Quidditch things - and picked up a photo frame on a mantlepiece. Albus walked closer so that he could see it was one of the rare family photographs they had.

“I asked it for a place that would understand you, because I sure don’t.”

Albus wasn’t sure if he still _did._ James had said that he didn’t care about Quidditch anymore, so why was there so much Quidditch merchandise all on the walls? Other than the fact that the room must have known that James _didn’t_ want to quit Quidditch.

James set the photo back on the mantlepiece, staring at it for a few moments, before turning to face Albus.

“Jesus, Al,” he said.

“He couldn’t make it,” said Albus.

A corner of James’ mouth twitched, and his laughter was nothing than just a quick, amused exhale.

“So?” asked James.

“So what?”

“What did you expect to happen here?”

“Nothing. I just thought you’d find it cool,” he lied.

“Well… it kind of is.” James examined the books on the shelves. “But it’s not really the first thing I want to see when I visit the Room of Requirement for the first time.”

Albus shrugged. “I didn’t know what else to do,”

“You don’t need to do anything,” said James. He didn’t say the words harshly, because he must have known that Albus actually cared about him – that he was doing this for him, rather for the sake of the Quidditch team.

“But it’s not you. You love Quidditch.”

James, shrugged. He sat down on the bed, sighing. “How did you find it? What did the Room turn into for you?”

Albus knew he was trying to change the subject, but he allowed it. If James wasn’t going to talk to him, then at least he could talk about himself. Walls went on both sides, so if he chipped at his a little, then maybe James could chip at his side, too.

He sat next to his brother. “It was after Delphi got arrested. Before the funeral… I just needed somewhere to be alone, so I wandered around the castle for somewhere I could think. Whinge, cry – whatever. Wherever I looked, though, I would always be bothered by someone. So, I came here, to the fifth floor, and I just sat on one of the benches out there. Not long after that, the door appeared and when I went in it was empty. Not empty like an empty classroom, but just empty… a void. There was nothing. I didn’t even want to step in because I thought I would fall, but then it felt… safe. I was in there for ages. I was floating. Weightless… eventually though, the room seemed to understand me better, to know what I wanted better and it turned into… something different. I might have been the first person in the room since the war – maybe it was recalibrating or something.”

James was silent for a long time. And then he sighed.

“Suddenly my problems seem like nothing compared to yours.”

“I doubt that’s true.”

James shrugged. “You’ve been through so much and I’m just…”

Albus leaned back. “It’s not a competition to see who has the most terrible life, you know.”

“I know.”

“If you’re feeling sad, then you’re feeling sad. It doesn’t matter if what makes you feel that way is losing your favourite quill, or if you travel back in time and almost kill your own family in the process- “

“Shut up, Albus,” groaned James.

Albus laughed.

“I bet you would have shown Scorpius this place… so what am I? The third person to find it?”

Albus shook his head. “No… I haven’t told Scorpius about it.”

“You’re joking.”

Albus shook his head.

“Why not?”

Albus thought about what the room had turned into when it had stopped being that starless sky. The way it smelt of Scorpius, the way the room was a mix of Albus’s and Scorpius’s personal effects… the way the Room seemed to ask him the question _I know what you want, but what makes you happy?_

He wouldn’t have known how to answer that question if that was what the room turned out like if Albus brought Scorpius here. That was the reason why he hadn’t shown Scorpius.

“It doesn’t matter,” said Albus. “Just be happy that you’re the only other person who knows about it.”

James didn’t speak for a while, and Albus thought he was just going to get up and leave the room without saying anything, but then he spoke.

“You know how I was at the Quidditch club a lot throughout the summer?”

Albus nodded. He’d always come home exhausted.

“I was training. Professional Quidditch. I’d meet with different Quidditch players, different teams. They were there for scouting…”

“And?”

“And none of them wanted me.”

Albus stared at James in shock. “ _What?_ ”

“I was rejected. By every Quidditch team, every agent, every coach. Being captain of the Gryffindor team wasn’t good enough. Being coached by mum wasn’t good enough. Being a _Potter_ wasn’t good enough," he scoffed. "It was all just a waste of time.”

“But… but you’re so good? You work so hard… how could they not _see_ that?”

James shrugged. “ _They_ don’t see any of that. You can spend years trying to be the best, years dedicating yourself to something you love. At the end of the day if you’re not what they want then...”

Albus was silent, but he moved to sit next to James. Whatever he thought had happened, this was worse. What was worse was that Albus didn’t know how to console him. He had been humiliated, embarrassed, angry, scared… he had never been rejected.

“That’s… I’m sorry James.”

James shrugged.

“You still love it though,” said Albus, looking around.

“That’s not what you asked the room though. You asked it for a room that would understand me. Not for a room I that I would love.”

“Oh,” said Albus. “You’re right… What _do_ you love then?”

James shrugged. “I don’t know.”

As he said that, all the equipment, the brooms, the posters disappeared, leaving the walls bare. The books disappeared off the shelf. The bed they were sitting on transformed into two hard, wooden chairs. The only thing that remained was the photograph. 

“See?” said James, putting his head in his hands.

He looked like he might burst into tears any moment. Seeing James like this, in such despair… Albus felt a lump form in his throat. All this time, he’d been feeling like this and he didn’t even know. Learning that Quidditch no longer resonated with James, that he no longer loved it... his one dream and passion. Albus just hadn't expected it. He did know though, that he wasn't going to do what Rose had asked him - he wasn't going to convince James to return to the team. That would have hurt him more than being rejected did.

“So, that's why I quit Quidditch. That's why I'm not even going to attend another game again. I’m too much of a jealous person to get back on a _broom_ ,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“There are players on the other houses who already got positions in the Quidditch League. Did you know Broderick’s joining Puddlemere United? And Vane’s in the Holyhead Harpies – “

“Couldn’t that be a motivator for you?”

James laughed sardonically. “Whoever thinks jealousy is a motivator is a masochist.”

Albus laughed. He felt the same way. “Still, though. It makes me sad that you would just quit like this. I understand not loving it anymore... but couldn’t you have more chances to join a team later on in the year?”

James shook his head. “Unless I wanted to become a coach or something…”

“And you don’t?”

“I considered it but…” he sighed. “I’d probably turn out into one of those bitter old men who live through the kids he coaches. I wouldn’t be a good coach, is what I’m trying to say.”

“But surely you won’t be happy like this?”

“Of course, I won’t be happy. I failed in the only thing I thought I’d succeed in. Now I don’t know what to do with myself. I guess I’ll just study and get good grades and work at the Ministry. Like every-bloody-else.”

”There must be other options though. There must be other ways to make it onto a team," said Albus.

He could tell that James was getting annoyed with his constant pressing. Albus knew he had to stop, because it wasn't like he knew anything about it, but he just needed to make sure that James wasn't exhausting all his options, that he wasn't just making excuses for himself, letting the rejections get to him.

“I’ve been in contact with everyone in Britain. Some teams aren’t looking for new players, some teams want someone else. Sometimes I’m not what they’re looking for. It’s hopeless.”

“Are you sure you’re not giving up too easily, too early?” asked Albus. 

James shook his head. "They don't want me."

Albus had no idea what James was feeling right now. All his life, people had told him how good he was at Quidditch, how he was so funny, so handsome, so smart. Albus doubted that James had even been told 'no' in his life, and now, suddenly, everything he had expected, everything he had planned was in shambles.

“Are you going to tell mum and dad?” Albus asked finally.

“They’ll find out eventually,” he said.

“Why don’t you want to tell them?”

“It’ll be disappointment to them. They worked so hard for me, for nothing to happen. And I don’t want to make any team on account of being a Potter. They could pull some strings and I’d make the reserves or something –“ he scoffed. “I don’t want that, though. Not while knowing that the team didn’t want me in the first place.”

Albus hated the idea that James would just give up. All this time, he thought James would always make the league. He would have joined a team and James would have ended up living a wealthy athlete’s life. James, too, must have thought the same, and now he had no plan for his life if things didn’t turn out.

It shattered his confidence. That much Albus could tell. And he didn’t find any fault in him wanting to quit Quidditch.

“Are you going to tell anyone else?”

James shook his head. “They don’t need to know.”

Albus nodded. “Alright.”

They sat there in silence for a few moments.

“Thanks,” said James.

“For what?”

James shrugged half-heartedly. “Not forcing me to do anything.”

“Oh.”

“And just… taking me out of there – out of the Gryffindor common rooms, I mean. They act like Quidditch is the only thing I’m good for.”

Albus’s heart broke. He could tell how much this this hurt him, how much he relied on other people to build him up. All of Gryffindor believed in him, but what good was that when the people who were supposed to see the potential in you didn't? To have that taken away from you from someone who didn’t even _know_ you, without even considering the time and effort you put in… _that_ was what was inconsolable. He could insult the coaches, the teams all he wanted, but it would never be enough. It would never ease the feeling of failure and of time wasted.

* * *

Albus went with James to the Gryffindor Common Rooms. James was jittery, unsure of what his peers would think when he returned, and nothing had changed. He did seem relieved though, that he wasn’t shouldering the entire burden anymore.

The Fat Lady scowled at Albus as he entered but made no effort to keep him out. The common room wasn’t nearly as full and not nearly as chaotic as it was when they left. Rose and Lily weren’t to be seen, and whoever remained in the common room watched them with anticipation as they entered.

“Potter, back on the team then?” called out a boy sitting near the fire.

“No,” said James.

Albus scowled at the boy. “Right. Listen up you lot; James isn’t returning to Quidditch and he doesn’t want to.”

“-Not returning to Quidditch?” the boy said, outraged.

“Isn’t that what I just said?” said Albus raising his brow. “If you have a problem with that, you’ll be going to the hospital wing and asking Madame Pomfrey to remove your wand from out of your-“

“Albus,” said James.

Albus took a deep breath and fixed a glare on the boy. “McGonagall’s going to get a new captain for the Gryffindor team, and that’s final.”

The boy, silenced, just nodded.

James nudged Albus. “You’re really… intense, when you want to be, you know?”

Albus snickered. “They better not bother you about it anymore.”

“Don’t be too hopeful,” said James. “If they do though, I’ll make sure to send them your way.”

“I’ll get going now,” said Albus. “Scorpius will probably be wondering what’s going on.”

“You’re not going to tell him, are you?” James asked.

“Not if you don’t want me to.”

“I don’t. Just keep it between us, for now.”

Albus nodded. He left the Gryffindor common room, walking through the endless corridors until he got to the Slytherin common room.

His mind was so muddled that Albus had forgotten that Scorpius would have been on the pitch – the irony wasn’t missed on him that his brother, whose only goal in life was to play Quidditch had quit on the day Scorpius – who had never even spoken a word about Quidditch until now, had joined the Slytherin team.


	9. Chapter 9

While waiting for Scorpius to return, Albus took out his spell books to start revising. He sat on his bed; dorms empty except for Justin Sewell doing the same thing.

Soon, Albus heard the Quidditch team enter from the common room, steps echoing towards the dorms. Scorpius and Francis burst in the door, grins on their face, chatting animatedly.

“Your Hargray’s Hit was amazing!” said Scorpius. “The explosion it made when it hit the ground-!”

Scorpius made a noise emulating an explosion, arms raised in what must have been an imitation of what it looked like.

“Good time?” asked Albus, looking up from his spell book.

Scorpius grinned at him. “The best! You should watch us.”

“Of course,” said Albus.

Francis and Scorpius changed out of their Quidditch robes. Scorpius looked over at Albus, saw he had been studying.

“Everything going alright?” he asked.

Albus nodded. “Better than ever.”

“Oi, Potter, did you find out why your brother quit the team?” called out Francis from his bed.

“Yeah,” said Albus. “He didn’t want me to tell anyone though.”

“Seriously?” asked Bulstrode. “And you didn’t manage to convince him to go back, either?”

Albus shook his head. “I don’t want to. He told me why and I wouldn’t force him to even if you told me I could get a million Galleons by doing so.”

“What’ll happen to the team now, then?” said Bulstrode

“They’ll get a new captain,” he said, shrugging. “It’s honestly not that big of a problem. Gryffindor will be fine.”

“That’s not like him, though,” said Scorpius frowning.

“I know. But it’ll be fine.”

Scorpius joined Albus in his bed.

“ _Muffliato_ ,” he whispered.

“James doesn’t want me to tell you,” said Albus before Scorpius could speak. “Sorry.”

Scorpius’s face fell. “Really? Not even me?”

“It’s not for me to tell. It’s shattered James.”

Scorpius was quiet. “Of course. It would have had to be really bad for him to quit Quidditch over it for.”

Albus nodded, he looked down at his hands. “You don’t have to worry about it though.”

Scorpius nodded.

“How was practise?” Albus asked.

“It was good,” said Scorpius. “I’m kind of nervous though. ‘Cause I’m so new.”

Albus, still reeling from James’ confession, found it hard to muster up any enthusiasm. “Adrien obviously saw your potential. And you’re not the only new one on the team, either.”

“That’s true,” said Albus. “Sanna has been playing for ages, though. I’ve only just started. And I’ve never played with a full team before.”

“It’s okay,” sad Albus. “You’ll have plenty of time to get used to it. All you need to do is focus on the Quaffle.”

Scorpius sighed, realising that Albus wasn’t up for that kind of conversation. He picked up Albus’s spell book. “Want to head to the library?”

Albus, tired about talking about Quidditch, nodded. “Let’s go.”

They made their way to the library. Madam Pince glared at them as they entered, not having forgotten their lack of following her ‘no talking, no eating, no breathing’ rules.

Albus and Scorpius got out their wands and started working on the assignments Professor Flitwick had set for them. Albus managed to force thoughts of James out of his head. At least studying could provide a distraction from worrying about him.

Albus spent most of the time practising the spells he’d never managed to figure out – spells that were so easy now that he had a proper wand. He grabbed a couple of books off the shelves that Professor Flitwick had recommended and checked them out, preparing for another intense study between classes tomorrow.

Most of his teachers had noticed his progress over the weeks since school began and had all recommended different books and assigned him more homework than most of the other students to get Albus on track for his OWLs. While he was grateful for the help and the support, he wished they would ease up on him a little. He was swamped.

Scorpius, though he was always better at magic and studying than Albus, had been struggling with his workload, too. Albus could do his homework while watching Scorpius practise, it wasn’t like Scorpius could do that while he was flying. Especially now he a member of the team, his time for studying was running short.

They worked in silence, only asking each other for help at irregular intervals – sometimes they knew the answer, other times they spent several minutes pouring over indexes to find out the answer.

Albus was nearing the end of his Charms homework when Madam Pince shooed them out of the library.

They hadn’t even noticed night had fallen; they’d been so caught up in their work. Albus _had_ been feeling hungry while they were studying, but he hadn’t realised that the time was now the end of dinner. Albus and Scorpius packed their books away and raced to the Great Hall.

The tables were emptier than either of them had ever seen it, barely any food to graze at. They were the only students at dinner, no teachers around, either. They did manage to fill their plates up with different bits and pieces from different tables and ate it in a hurry so they wouldn’t break curfew – of course, the bells chimed, signalling the very thing they wanted to avoid.

The dishes on the tables vanished in an instant. Albus and Scorpius stared at each other.

“We’d better go before it gets any later,” said Scorpius. “I doubt we’d get in trouble if we’re going back to the common rooms anyway.”

“Unless it’s Filch that catches us.”

“That’s true,” said Scorpius. “We’ll avoid him.”

Albus nodded, though he knew from other people’s stories of being caught by Filch, that it wasn’t that easy to avoid him or the watchful eyes of his ancient cat, Mrs. Norris.

They still had to get back to their dorms though, so they crept through the hallway, keeping their eyes and ears out for Filch’s scuffling steps, or the soft (and impossible to hear) trotting of Mrs. Norris’s paws.

The only teacher they bumped into in the hallways was Professor Grimstone, who only stopped Albus and Scorpius out of necessity but let them go once they explained what had happened.

They had almost reached the dungeons, when suddenly, Scorpius grabbed Albus by the wrist and he found himself being dragged into a corridor.

Scorpius peeked around the corner.

“I was right, it’s Filch,” he whispered. Albus leaned over Scorpius to take a look, and saw he was right. His jowls were flagellating, though Albus couldn’t hear what he was muttering to himself.

Albus leaned back against the wall, heart beating erratically. Albus hadn’t had many run-ins with Filch, but he heard stories about him and knew that while his threats were usually just that – threats, he did take rules seriously and doled out punishment with glee. Albus had enough punishment in his lifetime, and a potential detention with Filch seemed – at that moment – the worst of them all.

Scorpius pressed his back to the wall as Filch walked past. His arm brushed against Albus’s.

“Let’s go,” whispered Scorpius.

He didn’t waste any time in grabbing Albus by the wrist again, and they ran as fast as they could to the Slytherin common room.

They hadn’t been quiet while they were running and they could hear Filch’s shouting down the hall, though he was so old that there was no use in racing to catch up with them.

It was only when they entered the common room that Albus realised that Scorpius’s hand had slipped from his wrist and was intertwined with his fingers. Scorpius noticed at the exact same time and instead of drawing his hand away like Albus expected him to, he raised their hands with a stupid grin on his face. Scorpius’s face was flushed, probably from all the running, and his hair flopped over his eye.

Albus let go of his hand and reached over to slick his hair back into place, gliding his hand through his hair, the back of his neck, then, finally, for a second, it came to rest at his jawline.

They stared at each other for a few moments. Scorpius’s eyes shifted, like he was seeking something in Albus’s own. There was a slight furrow in his brow, like he wasn’t sure he could find it.

It was Scorpius who drew back first. He covered his mouth with his hand and yawned.

“Sleepy?” asked Albus.

Scorpius nodded. His eyes which had been so wide before were now half-lidded. “Let’s go to bed,” he said.

The tip-toed into their dorms, being careful not to wake up any of the other boys.

“Good night,” Scorpius whispered after they both changed into their pyjamas and crawled into bed.

“Good night,” said Albus back.

* * *

Albus woke up early the next morning, _without_ any prompting from Scorpius. His sleep schedule hadn’t changed much since coming to Hogwarts (he was still late to bed and late to rise), but he ended up waking before the dawn even started to break.

He tried to go back to sleep – resting his eyes, counting to ten, doing some breathing exercises, but that didn’t help either.

He wasn’t sure what had woken him up. He couldn’t remember any dreams, hadn’t heard any noises. One moment he was asleep, the next, he was not.

“Lumos,” whispered Albus, and the tip of his wand lit up. He sat up and moved his wand this way and that, trying to see if there was an explanation for his waking but there was not. Albus looked over at Scorpius who was laying on his stomach, face resting on his side so Albus could see it. He slept with a peaceful expression on his face.

Albus swung his legs over the bed, sliding his feet into his slippers. He pointed his light at the clock that hung near the door and saw it was six hours until school started. He knew he would be even more tired than he usually was, especially since he didn’t get a proper sleep. He figured that an extra strong coffee at breakfast could remedy that though, and he could always get more throughout the day.

He grabbed his homework off his bedside table and took it with him downstairs. It was the first time Albus had seen the common room completely empty, and he was glad that he could get the comfiest couch around. Facing _away_ from the portrait of Horace Slughorn, who was currently sleeping in his frame. Quite often had the portrait tried to stop Albus, trying to draw him into conversation about his family, about how happy he was that there was a Potter in Slytherin. He had never heard anything more, because now Slughorn’s voice was nothing more than white noise to him that he tuned out whenever he entered or left the common room.

Albus pointed his wand at a lantern on a table. “Incendio.”

The candle within alighted, and Albus closed the latch and brought it to his table. Unscrewing his ink pot, he dipped his quill in the ink, and started to write the conclusion for the essay Flitwick had assigned him.

There were moments of time where Albus set his quill down and stared out into the window which glowed with the greenish tone of the Great Lake – it was darker than it was during the day, but the bioluminescence from certain fish and other magical creatures still casted a green gleam into the common room. He got distracted from his work easily, especially when Scorpius wasn’t around to keep him focused. He would think about Scorpius, about James, about last year, though it was strange enough that those events that had made him so upset throughout the holidays seemed so far away and distant now. Even Hogwarts had become a more enjoyable place, something Albus had never thought possible.

He graduated from looking out the window to playing with the flame of the candle within the lamp. He flicked his fingers over the flame before it could burn him, but he had to stop because it started to hurt eventually, and he _did_ like to have his fingers intact.

He turned his focus back on his essay and wrote a lazy ending sentence. Just by looking at his handwriting, anyone could tell when he had lost all energy and couldn’t be bothered to keep going.

Finally, Albus’s eyes were drooping, even though it was now only two hours until class started, and people were already getting up and wandering around the common room.

“Trouble with your boyfriend, Potter?” a girl in his year said, walking over and resting a hand on his shoulder.

Zoe O’Malley looked at him with such concern that Albus felt almost _bad_ for explaining to her that he didn’t have a boyfriend. He also wondered what waking up early had to do with a non-existent boyfriend.

“Really?” then she gasped. “Wait, did you two break up?”

Albus frowned, confused. “I’ve never had a boyfriend.”

Now Zoe looked confused. “Really? But I could’ve sworn I saw you and Scorpius holding hands in the common room last night…”

Albus smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. He didn’t think anyone had been in the common room last night, but evidently, he had been wrong. He blushed to think that there had been someone intruding on them, suddenly realising they must have looked like a little more than friends to any outsider looking in. “Oh. Yeah. That was just an accident. We’re pretty close anyway.”

“Hm…” she said, furrowing her brows. “Well, I’m fetching some breakfast. Did you want to come?”

“Oh… sure! I should wake Scorpius up first,” said Albus.

“Don’t worry about it,” said Zoe. “I’ll be third-wheeling the whole way there! I’ll go on ahead.”

Albus smiled apologetically – it wasn’t the first time he’d been told something like that. He didn’t even _know_ what it was he and Scorpius did that made other people feel like that. Even Polly had mentioned it once or twice in a half-teasing, half-mean way of hers (“Did you two need a room?” or “I don’t even look at my own reflection in the mirror that way,”) but she was usually so absorbed in her own self that it didn’t even matter.

He didn’t know how _other_ people had noticed too. He had barely spoken to Zoe all the time he was at Hogwarts, and even she noticed something. She waved goodbye to Albus and left the common room. When she left, Albus went up to the dorms to see if Scorpius had woken yet. He reached the door at the same time it opened, and Scorpius bumped straight into him.

“Whoa,” said Albus, grabbing onto Scorpius for safety. He ended up stumbling backwards, but Scorpius grabbed him before he could fall all the way down the stairs, hauling him upright with effort.

“Oh, Merlin. I’m sorry,” said Scorpius.

Albus laughed, relieved. “Why do I always almost injure myself when you’re around?”

“What can I say? I’m just the kind of person you fall for.”

“No, you’re just so clumsy it’s almost embarrassing,” said Albus.

Bulstrode approached. “I see what you mean now,” he said to Scorpius. “It really _is_ frustrating.”

Scorpius nodded, pursing his lips and nodding glumly. Bulstrode strode past them.

“What was that about? What’s frustrating?”

“You. Not appreciating my puns.”

“What, that I fall for you? If I remember correctly, you’re the one that wasn’t watching where you were going and fell into me! Therefore, the pun wasn’t funny because it didn’t fit the situation.”

Scorpius had this strange expression he did whenever he was irritated where he would look upwards and his right eyelid would twitch in a grotesque way.

“Just laugh,” he commanded.

Albus forced out a laugh because a Scorpius that was irritated was not a Scorpius Albus wanted to be around – especially if it was him that made him irritated. “Oh Scorpius, you are so funny. What kind of person _wouldn’t_ laugh at your puns, which are so funny and so relevant -”

“Quit milking it,” moaned Scorpius. “Oh, let’s just forget about it. What were you doing up before me anyway?”

They made their way down the stairs, “I just woke up early. I don’t know why. I’m bloody tired now, though. I need a coffee.”

“You always need a coffee.”

“But now I _really_ need one.”

Scorpius laughed. “You’ll get one.”

They made it to the Great Hall. They sat close to Zoe.

“Hey Albus, Scorpius,” she said, waving at them.

Albus waved back. “She came up to me this morning and thought we were boyfriends,” he explained to Scorpius.

Instead of laughing, Scorpius spilt a little bit of his pumpkin juice. “Did she?”

Albus pointed his wand at the spill. “ _Scourgify._ Yeah. She saw us when we came back last night. You know, when we were holding hands.”

Scorpius nodded. “I remember.”

Albus grabbed the French press nearby and poured it into his mug, saying quietly to Scorpius; “Sometimes it feels like people haven’t seen two guys be close, before.”

“Mm,” said Scorpius.

When they finished their breakfast, they made their way over to their Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Scorpius seemed a bit tense when they arrived.

“Are you alright?” Albus whispered to them when they sat down.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Albus shrugged.

Professor Thomas was already waiting for them in the classroom. Albus, of course, was already familiar with him being one of his father’s schoolmates _and_ his mother’s ex-boyfriend. First Dean Thomas, now Cho Chang-Brown. At least nothing had happened to make it awkward for him, though he was sure it would happen sooner or later.

“Patronuses! Who can tell me what they are?” said Professor Thomas once the class were all seated. He stood near the blackboard, hands on his hips.

A few students raised their hands. Although both Scorpius and Albus knew what they were, they didn’t follow suit. It was normal for Albus, who hated participating in class, but strange for Scorpius, who was usually eager to share any and all information he knew about.

A Gryffindor student was chosen to speak, though Professor Thomas’s eyes did linger on Albus for a moment, he never called on any student that hadn’t raised their hand to speak.

“A Patronus is a wizards or witch’s protection against the Dementors. It’s formed out of the caster’s strongest positive or happy memory.”

“Correct,” said Professor Thomas. He elaborated. ‘It takes on the form of an animal and can also be used to send messages. Can anyone here cast a Patronus?”

No student raised their hand.

Professor Thomas smiled. “Excellent! When I was your age, I had the greatest honour of being taught the charm by Harry Potter, so of course,” _oh no,_ thought Albus, “I asked the man himself to demonstrate the charm _for_ us!”

Albus shoved his face in his hands, looking between his fingers as his father strode down the steps of Professor Thomas’s office. Did he _have_ to make an entrance like that?

“ _Expecto Patronum!_ ” he said, and a silvery stag emerged from the tip of his wand. It trotted around the length of the classroom, grazing past Albus and Scorpius then come to a stop by his father’s side.

There was applauding amongst the classroom.

Even Professor Thomas cast a Patronus.

“A butterfly?” called out a student, incredulously. “Your Patronus is a butterfly?”

Professor Thomas levelled the student with a _very_ pointed look. “Even the smallest Patronus can be as powerful as a large one.”

“Yours is cool, too, sir!” said another student.

Professor Thomas nodded appreciatively. “Now, when I was your age, I had no hope of casting a corporeal Patronus. In fact, it was only recently that I’ve been able to achieve it, so don’t feel bad if you can’t. Push all the tables and chairs back, and we’ll get started on the basics of it.”

Albus stood up, he and Scorpius begrudgingly moving the chairs and tables off to the side.

“We’ll split up into groups, half can go with Harry, and half can go with me.”

Naturally, most people moved to go with Albus’s father, except Professor Thomas stopped them before they could go any further. “I _will_ be splitting you all up, of course.”

Professor Thomas started counting them off, ‘ones’ went with Harry, ‘twos’ were to go to him. To Albus’s dread, Professor Thomas sorted him with his father, Scorpius, with Professor Thomas.

“Hi, Al,” said Harry when he dragged his feet over, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

“Hi,” said Albus glumly. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“Surprise?” said Harry. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter because believe it or not, I’m not always here to embarrass you. I’m here to _teach,_ so you better listen.”

Albus nodded. The rest of the group was surrounding them, listening to their conversation.

“Your dad’s so cool, Potter,” a Gryffindor student told him.

“You only say that because you don’t have to live with him,” grumbled Albus. He looked to see who else was in the group with him, and immediately went to stand next to Polly, who had evidently been placed in the same group with them.

“I was thirteen when I learnt how to cast a Patronus,” said Harry.

“The youngest person ever to be able to cast one!” interrupted a Gryffindor.

“I don’t know about _ever,_ but I was certainly one of the first at such a young age,” he said. “You’re usually told to think of your happiest memory, but I didn’t really have many happy memories back then. The thing that worked for me was thinking _about_ things that made me happy. My friends, Hogwarts… things like that. It has to make you feel happy in the moment when you cast the charm. It’s important to find what works for you, because it’s not the same for everyone. When you think you’re ready, say the spell, _Expecto Patronum,_ and I’ll help you from there.”

During the holidays, Albus had started to see his father in a new light. He no longer felt any sense of bitterness towards him, and he didn’t think he ever would again. He knew now, what it meant to be a legacy, and that meant respecting those that came before you – not just your family, but those who had influenced them. Hearing his father say so nonchalantly to the class that he didn’t have many happy memories – Albus understood what it mean to accept and understand that, because he didn’t have many, either.

Albus drew his wand out. But just as his father said, just because he didn’t have many happy memories, didn’t mean he didn’t have things that made him happy. He already knew without having to think about it. In a way, it was just the same as his father. He thought about the Room of Requirement again, how it had changed to be a reflection of him and Scorpius together.

Cries of the Patronus charm echoed all around him. Albus joined in, saying the words with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

Thin strands of silver erupted from his wand, mixing with the other glistening threads from other students. Harry started walking amongst the students as they practised and Albus could imagine a younger version of his father teaching his peers in the Dumbledore’s Army. He would observe a student, ask them a few questions, give them a few pointers, then he would watch as the student attempted the charm again, this time, the strands lasting for much longer, some of them even forming a shining forcefield.

When Harry approached Albus, he fought an urge to run.

“How is it going?” he asked.

“Um… _Expecto Patronum,_ ” said Albus. A few weak strands fell from his wand.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” said Harry.

“I’m not embarrassed. Why would I be embarrassed?”

“Because I can already guess what your happiest thought is, and I suppose it would be awkward talking about it to me.”

Albus flushed. “How can _you_ guess?”

“I just can,” said Harry. He leaned in close, lowering his voice so no one could hear. “If Scorpius is what makes you happy, then you really need to _feel_ it. Don’t be half-hearted with it. Go on.”

Albus gripped his wand tighter as his dad stepped back. Don’t be half-hearted with it? How _could_ he be half-hearted with it? It wasn’t like there was anything else that made him _happier._ He tried to recall every moment he had with Scorpius, meeting him on the train… reuniting with him when they had been forced apart – Scorpius hugging him in the Great Lake, so tightly that it was almost as if Albus was going to disappear again if he let go… he thought about how funny he was, how smart he was, how kind he was. If that was half-hearted, Albus didn’t know what else he was missing.

“ _Expecto Patronum,”_ he tried again. This time it was stronger, much stronger than before, a steady stream of silver came from the tip of his wand, but it would not manifest into something corporeal.

“Great job, Al!” said Harry, clapping. “I think you’ll get there, soon!”

Albus smiled, though he was a little disappointed that it didn’t become corporeal. He lowered his wand, the charm fading, and looked around at his classmates. His eyes found Scorpius’s, who was waving his wand meticulously, enunciating the charm with as much force as he could muster, but could not manage anything more than a few spurts of silver from his wand. Albus frowned. He would have thought _at least,_ he would have been able to manage something corporeal. He was always so positive, always found the joy in life…

Albus thought back to the conversation he overheard between Rose and Scorpius, He seemed so distressed about it – about whatever it was Albus had done. Albus felt a pang of guilt and concern run through him, but also a little bit of anger. Whatever it was, why did Scorpius act like it was fine – funny, even, when Albus wanted to talk to him about it. Why did he say nothing about it? But then again, it might not even _be_ about Albus. He wasn’t the only thing in Scorpius’s life. He could have been thinking about anything… he could have been thinking of his mother… There were lots of things that outweighed the positive ones, the rumours, the alienation… he could have just been stressed, or had other things on his mind.

Suddenly, Albus wanted to kick himself for thinking that Scorpius’s life revolved around him. Just because it was like that for Albus, didn’t mean it was the same for Scorpius. He blamed it on his sleep deprivation. The thing Albus was _really_ concerned over though, was how he seemed completely incapable of forming even an incorporeal Patronus. He was good at magic, excellent, even. Had he not a single memory, a single thought or feeling that could render a feeling of joy? Of happiness? Why did it feel like it was Albus’s responsibility to provide him that kind of feeling?

A Hogsmeade trip was coming up around the corner. He had his permission form signed and neither of them had been to the prior trips, because they had so much homework they needed to get through… if they both used their time wisely, Albus thought he might be able to plan something fun for the two of them to do, together.

A sudden burst of silver soared past his vision.

“Daydreaming, Potter?”

Albus blinked and glanced over at Polly. She held her wand out and coming from the silver stream was a Patronus. It fluttered above her shoulder and Albus had no doubt that the tiny songbird was what had disturbed him before.

Albus laughed self-consciously. “You did it?” he asked, indicating to her Patronus. Looking around, she might have been the only one in the class who had managed to make a corporeal one.

“Great job, Chapman!” called out Professor Thomas. “Thirty points to Gryffindor.”

Polly grinned. “It was easier than I thought it was.”

“You must be a pretty happy person, then,” said Albus. And she really _did_ seem happy these days. Apparently, losing her old friend group had been the best thing that could have happened for her. And, he thought, she did seem to be hanging out with Rose a lot more often.

“Most of the time. A lot of people in this class don’t seem to have that problem, though.”

“I wouldn’t really consider being happy a problem,” said Albus.

“Me either,” Polly grinned. “What were you thinking of?”

“About what?”

“Your happy memory.”

Albus shrugged. Having his father know was one thing, but having Polly know… he would never hear the end of it. “Not saying.”

Polly tutted. “I can probably guess, anyway.”

Albus rolled his eyes. “What were _you_ thinking of.”

“Singing. I’m in the choir.”

“You’re in the frog choir?” said Albus. “And _that’s_ what makes you happy? – Ow!”

Polly had elbowed him quite painfully in the side. “It’s actually quite good, believe it or not. You know that boy who almost killed my cat? He’s one of the soloists.”

“I remember. You were about to throw him off a moving train, right?”

“I think you need to go to Madam Pomfrey and get your memory fixed. We’re friends _now,_ though.”

“Amazing, what can happen whenever you’re not shouting at someone.”

Polly snorted. “Whatever, Potter.”

Albus’s gaze strayed over to Scorpius, once again. This time, their eyes met. Albus smiled at him, hoping he wouldn’t betray any of the concern he felt for his friend. Scorpius waved back, nothing in his body language that indicated anything about not being able to cast a Patronus.

Professor Thomas approached Scorpius, and he turned away from Albus.

* * *

After Defence Against the Dark Arts was Herbology with the Ravenclaws. At the forefront of his mind, Albus could only think about Scorpius’s weak Patronus attempts, and why it was so. He got so distracted in his thoughts that he became sluggish and slow. After knocking over his fifth fanged geranium pot, Professor Longbottom gave Albus a detention and also a pass to be sent to the hospital wing so Madam Pomfrey could heal all the bites and cuts that the flowers had given him.

Scorpius accompanied Albus to the hospital wing, fussing over him the whole way there.

“I should have just tied to down to your seat,” he said, using a tissue Professor Longbottom had given him and dabbing at the bites on his arm. “And you call _me_ clumsy.”

Albus just groaned in response.

Scorpius stopped and tilted Albus’s face towards his. Finding a clean section of the napkin, he pressed it against his cheek, where the geranium had attacked him.

“I bet you don’t want a scar from being attacked by a flower,” said Scorpius.

“Not really,” he said. He glanced at Scorpius, noticed a few freckles along his nose. He’d been spending a lot more time outside so they must have started to come through. Albus had never noticed them before.

“Albus? Are you alright?”

“Apart from the fact that I’m bleeding everywhere?”

“You went cross-eyed.”

Albus blushed. “I was looking at your freckles,” he explained.

“Oh,” said Scorpius. “I suppose it’s because of the sun.”

Albus nodded. He pulled away from Scorpius, “Come on. You’re supposed to be taking me to the hospital wing.”

Scorpius shrugged. “Alright, let’s go.”

As they made it to the castle, Scorpius didn’t let go of Albus’s arm as if he was concerned that Albus would try to run away from him. As they walked through the hallways, they heard snatches of different classes being held. He could hear his father’s voice echoing down the hall, talking to a class about Werewolves.

Albus and Scorpius continued on.

Madam Pomfrey noticed Albus the moment they walked into the hospital wing. Suddenly, Albus didn’t want to go in, thinking about the last time he was here, after Delphi had been arrested and Albus was bed-bound for weeks. Scorpius though, just pushed him in against his will.

“Oh, dear. What happened?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

Albus suddenly found himself unable to speak, so Scorpius explained. Madam Pomfrey urged Albus onto the bed and started to apply a grey paste to Albus’s arms and face. The scars, which had been hot and throbbing, cooled immediately and stopped bleeding.

It was the same paste she had used to heal the scars Delphi had dealt him.

“He didn’t have a good night’s sleep, Madam Pomfrey,” said Scorpius.

Pomfrey looked into his face. “Yes, I can tell from his dark eyebags.”

“They’re always like that, Ma’am,” said Albus.

Madam Pomfrey tutted. “Have you had trouble sleeping?” said Albus. “I wouldn’t be surprised, after everything that nasty girl did…”

Albus shook his head. It still felt strange whenever people brought Delphi up. Sometimes Albus thought she had imagined her – though he could never imagine the Killing Curse she’d directed to Craig – the memory felt as fresh in his mind as if he had just witnessed it.

“He only has trouble waking up,” said Scorpius.

Madam Pomfrey spread the paste along Albus’s cheek. “Very well, you may go back to your class now, Mr. Malfoy.”

“Are you sure, Ma’am?”

“Quite sure,” said Madam Pomfrey. “Go along now.”

Looking like he wanted to stay, Scorpius nodded and went back to Herbology.

Madam Pomfrey read the note Albus had given to her from Neville. “So, you’ve gotten a detention, too? There’s a lot of things Professor Longbottom can let go, but damaging his plants isn’t one of them.”

“He’s supposed to be a family friend, too,” grumbled Albus. “A godfather shouldn’t be allowed to give his godson detention, right?”

Pomfrey laughed. “If it’s in your best interests, I’m sure he can. He does say that you are allow to have a rest for the rest of his class, though. To prevent you from damaging the rest of the greenhouse.”

“He did?” said Albus. “So, I don’t have to go back?”

“Don’t be so excited,” she rolled her eyes. “You must stay here, of course.”

Albus nodded. Madam Pomfrey started to wipe the paste off his arms and legs, and there was nothing to suggest on his skin that he’d been attacked by a vicious flower moments ago.

Madam Pomfrey inspected Albus once more for any other cuts and scars she might had missed, then she handed Albus a cup.

“What is it?”

“Sleeping potion. You’ll wake in time for lunch.”

Albus nodded and drank it even though he was certain he’d be able to sleep without it. Within a few seconds, he was knocked out.

* * *

Albus woke up fifteen minutes past lunch, feeling much more refreshed than before. He slid off the bed and adjusted his robes and pulled his shoes back on. Madam Pomfrey stopped him before he left and said if he had trouble sleeping again, to come to the Hospital Wing so she would prescribe him a sleeping potion. She also recommended that Albus visit Madam Chang-Brown when he could, and Albus agreed.

Albus went to the Great Hall, though he was disappointed to see that Scorpius wasn’t at the Slytherin table.

“Al! Albus!”

Albus turned around, seeing Scorpius’s arm waving at him from the Gryffindor table. He was sitting with Rose and Polly.

Brows raised, Albus made his way over to them.

“Hi,” said Albus.

“I didn’t have anyone to sit with, so I came here,” said Scorpius. He made space for Albus to sit down.

“I can’t believe you got attacked by Neville’s _flowers_ ,” snorted Rose.

“They were fanged, I was sleep deprived. It’s not a great combination,” said Albus.

“And you got a detention,” said Polly. “I didn’t even think Longbottom gave out detentions.”

Albus grimaced. “Me either, to be honest.”

Scorpius laughed. “He’s going to his office at the end of the day. We were supposed to be studying together.”

“I’m sorry,” said Albus.

“How about you study with us, instead?” said Rose. “We can meet in the library.”

“Good idea,” said Scorpius.

Albus grabbed a sandwich. He looked down the length of the table for his siblings, and saw Lily sitting with her friends. She was holding something small, pointing her wand at it.

Albus strained his ears to hear what was happening.

“Don’t damage it,” her friend said. “It was expensive.”

“I _won’t,_ ” said Lily. “And if I do, I’ll buy you a new one.”

Albus frowned, turning to Rose. “What’s Lily doing?”

“One of her Muggle-born friends brought their phone with them to school, so now Lily’s trying to invent a spell which would made them work at Hogwarts. It’s not going to work though. She’s blown up every single one she could get her hands on.”

“Oh no,” said Albus. “And she’s been telling her friends that she’d pay them back? She doesn’t even _have_ any money.”

Rose sighed. “That’s just how she is these days. Act first, think later.”

“I know,” said Albus. “Anyway, have you got a new Quidditch captain yet?”

“No, not yet. Neville spoke to James last night trying to get him to cooperate at least, but he just walked out of the common room. I think we’ll know by tonight though.”

Albus nodded. “Any ideas?”

“Maybe Jae Lee? I don’t know.”

Albus looked over to Jae, who was eating his food alone. “James isn’t with him…” he said.

“I think they’ve had a quarrel,” said Rose glumly.

“Oh.”

Though Albus had entered the Great Hall in high spirits, despite his detention, hearing that James was fighting with his best friend and was having a hard time was enough to dampen that.

“It’ll be alright,” said Scorpius, who must have noticed. “I saw your dad talking to him on the way here.”

“Did you hear anything?” asked Albus.

Scorpius shook his head. “It was personal, so I just kept on walking.”

Albus smiled gently at him. “I’m sure I’ll be hearing about it on the holidays, anyway.”

”Speaking of the holidays,” said Rose. “You’re not doing _nothing_ for your birthday this year, are you?”

“My birthday’s on Christmas,” said Albus. “I can’t really _do_ anything for it anyway.”

“We’ll celebrate it on a different day, of course!” said Rose. “Come on, if you don’t plan something, _we_ will.”

Polly looked so relieved to be included in Rose’s declaration that Albus felt like he couldn’t say no.

“Fine,” he said, “But it has to be a surprise.”

“I thought you hated surprises,” said Scorpius.

“I’m just hoping you’ll all get lazy and forget about it if it’s not me planning it.”

Polly laughed. “You think _I’ll_ forget about it?”

Albus’s eyes widened. “Oh no.”

“Polly Chapman, the best party planner in the whole school?” she prompted.

“ _Oh no,_ ” said Albus again.

“Oh, _yes,_ ” She said wickedly.

* * *

After his third period Transfiguration class, Albus had no more classes, and he went to Professor Longbottom’s classroom near Gryffindor tower.

He knocked on the door and found he was not the only person who had been given detention tonight.

“Albus, come in,” said Neville jovially.

Albus did so, standing next to William Shacklebolt. He looked down at his feet, as if embarrassed to be seen in detention.

“Do you know William?” Neville asked.

“We’ve met a couple of times,” said Albus.

“Oh?” said Neville. “Well, that’s good. Now, I’ve got a few plants in the greenhouses that have died, so I need you two to help me out, alright?”

“I almost get killed by one of your plants and now I’m helping to get rid of the dead ones?”

“Exactly! Glad you’re catching on. Follow me, now,” said Neville.

Albus and William followed Neville out of his office, through the darkening hallways and to the greenhouses. On the way there, Albus asked what William got detention for.

“I didn’t even do anything,” said William. “A few students in my class we’re spitting acid spitballs at me, so I hexed them. Professor Longbottom gave them detention too, but I suppose he thought it would be a good idea to separate us.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation,” said Neville who must have heard their conversation. “They’re getting the worse punishment.”

William considerably brightened up after that.

Neville unlocked the door to the greenhouses with an unlocking spell, as they entered, Neville waved his wand, a few balls of light dancing above them, making the greenhouse as bright as day.

“Come here,” said Neville, walking towards a table filled with herbs. He handed William and Albus some shears. “Whichever leaves or stems look brown, just cut them off. Of course, if you know a shearing spell, that can work too, and it’ll quicken the job up. I’ll be in any of the other greenhouses. If you need me, just shout.”

Albus and William nodded. When Neville closed the door behind him, Albus turned to William.

“I don’t suppose you know any spells for gardening, do you?”

William shook his head. “I guess we have to do this the Muggle way.”

Albus sighed. “I guess.”

Albus moved to a different table from William and started to inspect the herbs for any browning. Most of the plants here were non magical. Albus could recognise ginger, rosemary, basil, chilli… It occurred to Albus that this must have been where all the herbs for their food was grown. He knew that they had magical properties too, that even within these unassuming plants, they could be used for healing, or for poison too (though he hoped the poisonous plants weren’t in the same greenhouse as the edible plants).

“Do you mind if I sing?” William asked suddenly.

Albus remembered Polly saying William was in the choir. “Oh, of course. Songs would be nice to pass the time, too.”

William smiled at him. “Thanks. I was supposed to have choir practise tonight, but I missed out.”

“Go ahead, then.”

Albus turned back to his plants as William’s voice filled the air. He suddenly understood why he was the soloist. His voice was as clear as a bell, delicate and strong at the same time. He sung in a language Albus didn’t know, but he found it didn’t matter.

He whistled. “You’re really good.”

William stopped singing. “Can you sing?”

Albus shrugged. “I sing in the shower.”

William laughed. “Follow my key,” he said. He started off low, “ _Do.”_

_“Do,”_ said Albus.

Albus matched William when he prompted him to. His voice went higher and higher with each syllable William pronounced, and then lower when he indicated. William asked him to _do, re, mi_ a few times more, then asked him to sing the Hogwarts Song.

“Seriously?” Albus asked.

William nodded. “Go on.”

Albus sighed, then did so. “ _Hogwarts, Hogwarts…”_

When he had finished, William looked at him in delight.

“What?” asked Albus.

“How do you feel about joining the choir?”

“Um…”

William gazed at him. “You need a bit of work, but honestly, you’re pretty good!”

“Good?” asked Albus. “Are you sure?”

William nodded. “Unless you have something else to do?”

“I don’t but - ”

“Well, we have a choir meeting tomorrow in Flitwick’s charms room. You should come. Polly Chapman will be there too.”

Albus felt like Polly would only take the mickey out of him if he did after teasing her about it in the morning.

“Um, I guess I can try and make it,” he heard himself saying.

“Excellent!” William clasped his hands together. It was the first time Albus had seen him look anything other than shy and downtrodden. Albus guessed that maybe William wasn’t as quiet as he seemed to be.

Neville opened the door to the greenhouse. “Everything alright in here? I thought I could hear something?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, Professor,” said Albus before William could say anything about singing. No doubt if Neville knew, he would go and tell his father.

Neville nodded, and backed out from the doorframe. Albus went back to trimming the plants.

_

After Neville accompanied William and Albus back to their common rooms, Albus found Scorpius sitting on his bed, a mountain of parchment around him.

“Homework?” asked Albus.

“Mm,” said Scorpius. “Loads of it. Think you’re up for Transfiguration practise?”

Albus thought of his own pile of homework. “Yeah. I’m not even tired.”

“Really? What did Professor Longbottom have you do? Nap in his office?”

Albus laughed, sitting on his bed. He reached into his rucksack and pulled out his Transfiguration spell book and a roll of parchment. “No, he just let us trim some of the plants in the greenhouses.”

“Us?”

“Oh yeah. William Shacklebolt was there. We got distracted a bit. He wants me to join the choir.”

“The what, now?”

“I know. He made me sing and then he decided he wanted me to come to their next meeting.”

“But can you even _sing_?” Scorpius asked,

“He thinks I can.”

“Well, go on then. Sing something for me.”

“ _Happy birthday to you –_ “

“Not that, you dolt. Something serious.”

“ _God save our gracious-“_

“Al!” whined Scorpius. He had a hand on his pillow and looked like he was trying to stop himself from throwing it at Albus.

“I can’t,” said Albus, conscious of everyone else in the dorms with them. “All he did was make me sing the stupid school song. If you come tomorrow maybe you can hear me.”

“I can’t, I’ve got practise tomorrow,” said Scorpius regretfully.

“Oh, well maybe soon anyway.”

“So, you’re going then?”

“Well, Polly’s going to be there, so it might not be that bad.”

Scorpius laughed. “Maybe, maybe not.”

After that, they settled into their homework. Albus stayed up a little longer than Scorpius did until he started to feel drowsy. Some time past midnight, he pushed his spell books and parchment off the bed, and went to sleep.

* * *

Albus was standing in a church, looking down an empty pew. He walked around, touching the walls, the seats, the podium.

He heard scuttling somewhere in the walls, a bird? A rat? It could have been anything. There was a window which he looked out from, snow glittered on the flowerbeds. There was a statue of his grandparents outside of the window, of Lily and James Potter. Albus turned around and felt like he was stabbed in the chest.

He doubled over, clutching his shirt, where he knew he had been stabbed, felt the knife go in, but there was no blood, no wound, no knife. He saw shadows around him, all chanting a strange song. It wasn’t in any particular language.

It was dark. Dark enough that Albus couldn’t see his hand outstretched in front of him.

His heart was racing, and he woke up gasping and crying. It was completely dark, but he heard something shift in the bed besides him.

“Albus?” said a voice.

“Scorpius,” sobbed Albus. “S-Scorpius?”

Albus grabbed onto something warm, something solid. He brought Scorpius closer to him and sobbed on his chest until his shirt was soaked through.

He could feel something dripping onto the crown of his head. Startled he pulled Scorpius away from him. “W-what is that?”

Suddenly, without anybody casting a spell, without a light flicking on, Scorpius’s face was illuminated like someone was shining a torch directly beneath him. His face was dripping, his eyes were dripping, his nose, face, streaked with red, with blood. Scorpius frowned, as if he was confused.

“Al? What’s wrong?” when he spoke, his voice became deeper, his face shifted, his eyes rolled back and he was a different person. Craig Bowker Jr. stared back at him. “Albus? It’s okay, Albus.”

Blood still dripped down his face. Craig changed into Delphi, into Harry, into Ginny. His siblings… every face he had ever seen or recognised shifted before he could even blink.

“Albus it’s okay Albus It’s okay.”

The chanting grew louder and louder.

_

Albus woke up, eyes staring blankly above.

“Is this real,” he said aloud. He pinched himself. It hurt.

He waited a few moments and grabbed his wand on the bedside table, illuminating it. His heart was racing. Everyone was asleep except for him. He wiped his face, which was sweaty, then realised his entire body was soaked and that he had sweated all through his clothes, onto the bedsheets.

He swallowed hard, then got up.

He crept over to Scorpius’s bed, knowing he wouldn’t be upset if he had woken him, because he knew that Scorpius had nightmares too.

“Scorpius,” he whispered, feeling a sense of trepidation. What would he do if he was still dreaming?

Scorpius was a light sleeper, but he still had to nudge him a few more times before he woke up.

“What is it?” asked Scorpius groggily.

“I had a nightmare. I need you – your help,” said Albus. He had no emotion in his voice, but he couldn’t help the slight tremor that passed through it.

Scorpius reached for his wand, saw the state of Albus, completely drenched in his sweat. He rubbed his eyes, then slid his feet off the side of the bed. “Come on,” he said.

He stood up, helping Albus on trembling legs. He took him to the bathroom, where he turned on the shower and grabbed Albus everything he needed, shampoo, soap and conditioner.

“I’ll get your spare pyjamas,” said Scorpius.

Albus nodded, then stopped halfway. “Wait,”

“What?”

Albus thought about what he was going to say, then thought better of it. “Never mind, I just don’t know if they fit me anymore,” he lied.

“I’ll let you use mine, then,” said Scorpius.

A lump in his throat, Albus nodded. He waited for Scorpius to return with his pyjamas. He returned within a second.

“What time is it?” Albus asked.

“Around three,” said Scorpius.

Albus sighed. “You can go back to sleep if you want.”

Scorpius shook his head. “It’s fine, I’ll stay up for you.”

“I’ll feel bad.”

“Nonsense, you’re always there for me when I have a nightmare. Of course, I won’t go to sleep.”

Albus smiled. “Alright, then. Thank you,” he said quietly.

Scorpius gave him a gentle, concerned smile, then shut the door behind him.

Albus stripped out of his flannel pyjamas where they hit the ground with a damp thud. He entered the shower and rinsed every bit of himself he could reach. He felt dirty, not just from the sweat, but from thinking he could just have a few good weeks where everything felt fine, where he could make jokes, where he thought he could forget about everything that had happened – everything he had caused to happen.

His dreams, of course, had to be a reminder of that.

He didn’t know how long he was in the shower for, he pumped out so much shampoo that it was too much for his short hair, used the soap until it was visibly smaller than it was before he got in the shower. He thought the amount of conditioner he used would be enough to tame his wild hair.

He stood in the shower for such a long time that his fingers started to go wrinkled. He crouched sobbing so loudly he didn’t hear Scorpius enter or ask if he was okay.

He felt the water stop, felt a towel wrap around him, and investigated Scorpius’s face, who gazed at him, his brows furrowed, worrying his bottom lip.

“Come on,” said Scorpius gently, helping him up. “You’re no good like this.”

Albus didn’t say anything. His teeth were chattering.

Scorpius used the towel to pat him dry. Albus didn’t care that he was naked – this wasn’t the worst Scorpius had seen him. He’d seen him at his most selfish, his most vulnerable, his most stupid –

“How are you even still friends with me?” he asked.

Scorpius stopped moving his hands. “Because you’re a good person, Albus Potter.”

“What kind of good person gets someone killed.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” said Scorpius, without missing a beat. “It was Delphi’s.”

“That’s what everyone says,” muttered Albus. “We all know it was my fault though.”

“Really? Because I remember Delphi manipulating you to get what she wanted. That could have happened to anyone.”

“Then why didn’t it happen to James or Lily? Why didn’t it happen to my father? Why was I the only one stupid enough to believe her?”

“I believed her too,” said Scorpius. He continued to pat Albus dry. He handed Albus his underwear, which his put on with some difficulty. His body didn’t feel like his own, so Scorpius helped him pull them up. He felt like a child – an infant that couldn’t even dress himself, and that made him feel pathetic. Scorpius pulled on his pyjama pants too, made from silk except Albus was so numb he couldn’t feel it. “I believed Delphi, her story…”

“And you were smart enough to figure it out, that she was the Augurey.”

“She was dumb enough to let it slip,” said Scorpius. Deft hands made quick work of the buttons on his pyjamas top. “We can’t keep blaming ourselves like this.”

It took a moment for Scorpius’s words to register in his brain. “Why do _you_ blame yourself? It was me Delphi targeted the whole time.”

Scorpius sighed. His hair was a mess, his cheeks were red from sleep. He had long eyelashes, and a few of them at the corners were stuck together. “I blame myself because it was my fault too.”

“No it wasn’t,” said Albus instantly. Scorpius raised his hands to Albus’s cheekbones and wiped away some of the tears there. He hadn’t even realised he was crying.

“I could’ve done more to stop her. I could have done more to be a better friend. I just… I have so many regrets, Albus, _so many._ I keep dreaming about what could have happened if I never pushed through, if I didn’t have you. If I never knew you. It was terrible, in those alternate realities… I think they’re real, somewhere in the universe. I see my dad be the person he never wanted to become, a world where you were never even born, and it _breaks_ me to think that there are worlds so hopeless and so evil and then I think of you and how you brought this world hope.”

Albus shook his head. “I _don’t,_ I _don’t.”_

“You do, Al. Think about it. Think about yourself.”

“I don’t want to think about myself.”

“Well, you’re going to have to one day. One day you’re going to realise that nothing that happened was your fault.”

“I got Craig dead,” said Albus. The way the words came out made him feel stupid, so he started crying even more.

“Was that what your dream was about?” asked Scorpius. “Craig dying?”

Albus shook his head. “No. Everyone dying. You… mum, dad, Lily and James… everyone I know. Everyone that I could have killed.”

“I dream about that, too” said Scorpius. “I lived through it. So don’t think you’re going to bear this alone, Albus. Don’t you fucking dare _._ ”

Scorpius looked as if he was about to cry, too.

“We should go to the hospital wing,” said Albus. “Maybe Madam Pomfrey has a potion for dreamless sleep.”

“I’m sure she does,” said Scorpius, “Though I think we need something that goes a little deeper than a potion.”

Scorpius held Albus in his arms, hugging him so tightly that it was almost like he wanted to absorb him in his own skin. He wiped away Albus's tears, and Albus did the same for him. Eventually, when Albus couldn't cry anymore, when his throat felt dry and scratchy, they went together to the hospital wing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> As of 03/04/2020, I've gone through the previous chapters and fixed some typos and added some things I might have overlooked in the previous chapters! There aren't many changes, but I added and extra three-hundred words in Chapter 7 for consistency that might be worth checking out! It's in the scene where Albus and Scorpius are approaching the Quidditch Pitch.
> 
> I would also like to write a PSA regarding anyone who likes to read fanfiction on Ao3. Because of the coronavirus, there has been a jump in traffic on Ao3, and because of that, OTW has had to make some changes to compensate. 
> 
> Some of these changes include "logged out users [experiencing] a delay in work updates, and hits from logged out users will no longer be included in works' hit counts." 
> 
> This means that if you are reading something and you don't have an account/are not logged in, you might not be reading the updated version, and that your click no longer counts in updating a fics hit stats! If you are not logged in, you also might not be able to see the edits I have made!
> 
> As a writer, having people read and enjoy my work is one of the greatest pleasures I can have, so if you are simply not logged in, please do so. It can be very discouraging for some writers to see their stats drop so suddenly, so please write some encouraging comments and leave Kudos on your favourite fics!
> 
> You can read more about the changes here: https://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/15379
> 
> (This note will be deleted once this is resolved)


End file.
